


The Trial

by jellyjog



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, M/M, Obi doesn’t deserve this, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Poor Obi-Wan Kenobi, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Submissive Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:39:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyjog/pseuds/jellyjog
Summary: Obi-Wan was not ready. Not for the trials and not for the way that his master was touching him.





	1. An Unexpected Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is explicit non-con. If that’s not your cup of tea I’d suggest clicking back and finding something else to read.
> 
> All characters are of age. Obi-Wan is 25, and Qui-Gon has just announced his desire to send Obi-Wan to the trials and take Anakin in his place.

    There had been a time when Obi-Wan was sure of what his master was to him. He had been a mentor. A graceful, looming Jedi Knight who he had looked up to both physically and mentally. Their force bond had been something unique. Shattered after Melida/Daan when Obi-Wan hadn’t truly understood it’s importance, only for the cracks to be pieced together by the force as it willed them back to each other. Of course, Qui-Gon had already experienced a broken bond before. It seemed that even in betrayal Obi-Wan would never be able to fulfill his duty as a padawan. He would never be able to bring wisdom to his master. Never participate in the exchange of knowledge—the age old adage that the teacher also learned from the student. Perhaps that was why the force was seeing fit to punish him now. Perhaps that was why Qui-Gon had tossed him aside so casually at the first opportunity.

 

    Perhaps it was best that Obi-Wan not think of his master as a mentor anymore. Not as he faced the prospect of becoming a Jedi Knight, and certainly not as his master continued to touch him the way he was. Masters didn’t touch their padawans like that, no matter how far into adulthood they were.

 

    Focusing on the present wasn’t any easier, he found. The physical sensations were foreign, and although Qui-Gon had framed it as a learning experience—still _so_ much to learn—it felt anything but. He stood still and pliant as hands slid under his tunic and up his chest. He considered resisting as it was shrugged off of his shoulders, but the idea of defying his master now after deferring to him so easily before the council felt hypocritical. Master Jinn’s message had been clear. _Your opinion doesn’t matter._

 

    What other reason could he have had for announcing his desire to take a new padawan without discussing it with him first? As Obi-Wan had stood in the room only to be discarded. _He is ready,_ he’d said.

 

He wasn’t ready for _this._

 

    He opened his mouth when Qui-Gon kissed him, but he didn’t kiss back. He simply gave no resistance and allowed the feeling of a tongue inside his mouth to be catalogued somewhere in his brain’s list of sensations. He suspected it was being filed under “unpleasant.” Hands found their way to his hips and pulled him forward and Obi-Wan became viscerally aware of just how much bigger than him Qui-Gon was. His master was a tall man, while he himself had always been slightly shorter than average. His frame was slimmer than Qui-Gon’s as well—the product of a fighting style more centered around speed and acrobatics than strength. Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed as the kiss broke, tongue sliding across his jaw and onto his neck. He had no desire to see this.

 

    Obi-Wan didn’t move other than to tilt his head back. A sign of submission. His arms held limply by his sides. He allowed himself to be pushed backwards until he was forced to sit on the bed, and acquiesced as a hand pushed him down fully onto his back. His boots and pants were pulled off, and he could hear the rustle of Qui-Gon’s robes hitting the ground as he kept his eyes firmly shut. He was briefly tempted to look, wondering if the scar Master Fisto had told him to look for was there. A long mark on the hip from a particularly embarrassing encounter his master had apparently had with a bantha as a youngling. A year or so ago he’d have jumped at the opportunity to see evidence the story was true. Now he wanted desperately to see anything else.

 

    He felt the warmth of skin against his thighs as his master straddled him and suddenly a mouth was on his again. The kiss was passionate this time, bordering on violent, and Obi-Wan wondered how it was possible to achieve that level of intensity with a partner who was effectively doing his best to play dead. One hand ran along his left arm, which had sprawled out to his side, before placing it’s weight down on his wrist. The other hand came coiling up his chest, along his throat. It grabbed his jaw tightly and place it at an angle that made his mouth more accessible to the taller man.

 

    Then it moved up to his ear and there was a slight pressure on the hair of his braid as the hand moved to wrap it around it’s palm. Obi-Wan gasped as it was tugged on, tight pressure on his scalp and a shock of pain eliciting the sound involuntarily. His cheeks went red as he thought of how vocal he’d always been while fighting. It made sense that he wouldn’t be allowed the dignity of remaining silent during this either. He felt Qui-Gon smile against the skin at the corner of his lips, and he squeezed his eyes a bit tighter. He wished briefly for Tahl’s blindness so that he’d never have to look at his master’s face again, even if it meant dealing with an incompetent navigation droid for the rest of his pathetic existence. Of course, that would only be a temporary solution. He and Qui-Gon would be joined together again in the force after death.

 

    The hand on his wrist lifted, but Obi-Wan didn’t move until it purposefully nudged his legs apart so that Qui-Gon could settle in between them. The hand lifted momentarily, and then without so much as a warning a finger was being pressed inside of him. The sound that left his mouth was undignified. The way he jerked was even more so. It struck him that the finger was cold and wet, and he wondered what his master had done to achieve that.

 

    “Relax, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon’s breath was too hot by his ear but he conceded anyway, allowing the tension to leave his body with his breath.

 

    The new sensation as the finger began to move was catalogued under several tabs. It was filed under _Unpleasant,_ of course. Right next to the feeling to having someone else’s tongue in his mouth. It was also filed under _Waste,_ as the removal of a finger felt shockingly similar to voiding one’s bowels. It was also hesitantly filed under _Sex._ It was the only file there other than a few adolescent fantasies and a particularly interesting experience he’d had while chasing a criminal through a brothel. All in all he’d always had much more interesting things to think about than sex.

 

    Qui-Gon was no longer kissing him. It felt as though he’d shifted his weight in order to better focus on what he was doing with his hand and Obi-Wan felt the air brush involuntarily past his vocal cords as another finger was added. The result was a small, inelegant mewl. He allowed himself to squeeze his eyelids tighter once again as embarrassment settled in his stomach and he felt a tear flit out of the corner of his left eye. _Pathetic_. Even younglings still in the creche had better control over their emotions.

 

    Master Jinn liked it though, if the approving hum and increased speed with which he was stretching him were any indication. Obi-Wan could hear the sound of rough, sped up breathing but knew for certain that it wasn’t his, as he was focusing deliberately on remaining completely limp by breathing in one of his meditation patterns. It was surprisingly difficult to focus while his mentor of twelve years was sticking his fingers up his ass immediately after telling the council he didn’t want him anymore, but meditation had never come easily to him so who was he to complain.

 

It was three fingers now, grouped into a tight cluster that flared out uncomfortably as it got closer to the knuckles. It occurred to him that the labored breathing was a result of Qui-Gon touching himself and he didn’t know how to feel about this. He should have been happy that he was pleasing his master. Happy that he wasn’t completely worthless, even if he still wasn’t worth keeping around any longer. The only feeling he managed to latch onto though was a vague feeling of discomfort and loss, which was intensified as the fingers were removed and Qui-Gon settled himself over him.

 

    Qui-Gon grabbed at his padawan braid as he entered him. There had been no discussion of who would do the fucking, just as there had been no discussion of whether there would be any fucking at all.

 

    Just as there had been no discussion as to whether he was ready to face the trials and become a Knight.

 

    There was a time when his master would’ve known. The small space in his head where Obi-Wan resided would have told him everything he needed to know. How to move. How to reassure him. When he needed space and when he needed comfort. Obi-Wan could feel his master’s pleasure somewhere deep in his mind, even as he pointedly ignored it. They weren’t connected as strongly as they used to be. They must not be, because otherwise Qui-Gon would have known exactly what he was doing and that would be so much worse. He would know exactly what he was doing _now_.

 

    What Qui-Gon was doing now was hurting him. One hand on his hip and one gripping his braid and pulling him towards him as he thrust. Obi-Wan tried to remain still but the burning was mixing with an odd pulling feeling inside of him as his body clung to the intrusion. He found himself gripping the sheets at his sides and crying out incoherently each time Qui-Gon pulled himself out.

 

    It didn’t take long for Qui-Gon to finish with him, although there were a couple times the pace deliberately slowed and Obi-Wan suspected it was so that his master could draw out the reactions he was receiving. Every sob and whine that escaped his throat. Every muscle he tensed. Eventually, blessedly, Obi-Wan knew it was over when he felt himself voided with an unpleasant pop, followed by a groan of pleasure and something wet dripping onto his stomach. The hand on his hip had been removed but his braid was still being held, twirled between fingers as a body collapsed on top of him and breathed kisses into his neck. The touch was soft, but Obi-Wan still felt vaguely like he should be crying. After the breathing had calmed, the grip on his braid was released and the weight of the bed shifted as Qui-Gon stood. There was no movement beyond that and Obi-Wan knew that he was being watched. _Inspected_.

 

    And what a disgraceful sight he must be. Naked and spread with cum along his middle. Flacid. A single tear track down the left side of his face. Worst of all was that he wasn’t even trying to move. Not trying to regain a shred of dignity. He simply remained splayed out and limp with his eyes shut as his master looked down at him.

 

    There was a rustle of fabric. Qui-Gon dressing himself. He was efficient and no doubt graceful as well, and it took no time at all before the sound of footsteps began echoing towards the door.

 

    “Master?” Obi-Wan called out, speaking to Master Jinn for the first time since their meeting with the council. There was a pause as Qui-Gon waited for him to continue. “What did I do wrong?” Another pause, but this one heavier. Hanging between them as if made tangible by the force. Obi-Wan waited desperately, clinging to the hope that there was some answer that would make all of this make sense. Perhaps there was, but if it existed he must not have deserved to hear it. Otherwise Qui-Gon wouldn't have continued walking, closing the door gently behind him, and Obi-Wan wouldn’t have been left to contemplate his fate alone and more empty than he’d ever felt in his life.

 

    He wondered, briefly, as an unwelcome sob escaped his lips, how the trials could possibly manage to test him any more than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hesitant to post this on my regular account because I’ve received hate for writing noncon before, but I decided to embrace it. Bring on the hate.
> 
> I am open to constructive criticism, as it’s the only way to get better at writing. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I’m also considering writing a follow up chapter where Obi-Wan discusses what happened with someone, or maybe even brings it to the attention of the council. Haven’t decided yet though.


	2. Not Quite Knighted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of sexual assault, but considering you're on chapter two of a fic that opened with graphic noncon I doubt that'll be an issue for any of you.
> 
> Also the formatting is different because for some reason I couldn't get ao3 to let me indent my paragraphs. Sorry.

The hum of lightsabers around Obi-Wan’s body was comforting, despite the foreign and cold shadows they cast in the Hall of Knighthood. He was kneeling and silent, at the mercy of the Jedi Council and the few Knights who had been instrumental in his training. Yoda stood before him, power seeping from his own green blade as he began the ceremony.

“We are all Jedi. The Force speaks through us.”

The force had never spoken to Obi-Wan more clearly than it had in this moment, and it was almost enough to distract him from the oddity that was Master Yoda speaking with regular grammar. Evidently this was a scripted ceremony, one that even the Grand Master did not stray from.

There was a sanctity to the moment, heavy in the way it surrounded him but light in the force. The customary time he’d spent in the Tranquility Spire, fasting and meditating, had served it’s purpose. His role in this ceremony was clear, and although he was certain that the scripted ritual called for him to be silent and wait, head bowed, the force told him to do something else. Something he had not held the courage to do until this moment.

“Through our actions, the Force proclaims itself and what is real.”

Yes. Obi-Wan would act.

“Today we are here to acknowledge what the Force has proclaimed.”

And the Council would acknowledge.

“I am not ready.” Obi-Wan tilted his head up as he spoke to meet the surprised eyes of the Grand Master. No doubt his expression was mirrored by those standing around him.

“It is not customary for a padawan to speak during his knighting.” Master Windu spoke from behind him. His voice was assertive. Chastising. Master Yoda however simply raised his hand to bring silence to the room.

“Ready you are, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Passed the trials, you have.” He cast an unreadable gaze down to the kneeling padawan. “Disagree with the Council’s decision, you do?”

“I am not ready to become a knight,” Obi-Wan reasserted. “The Force does not will it. Not yet.” He shook his head as he felt surprise and curiosity seeping through his bond with Master Jinn. He would be glad to be rid of it when the time came, despite the fact that it already seemed to be waning. He no longer wanted his master inside of him and he only fought the urge to shield his mind and force the man out when he felt Yoda’s presence. Instead he bared his mind to the small master in front of him, allowing him to see the certainty behind his words.

“Truthful, the boy is.” Yoda turned his lightsaber off as he spoke, looking down questioningly. There were confused mutters throughout the room as the other masters followed suit and the room was swaddled in a soft darkness. “Explain, he will.” Yoda sent him a piercing look. 

“I have allowed attachment to determine my actions.” Obi-Wan glanced up and to his left, where he knew his master was standing. Master Jinn’s expression was unreadable, and Obi-Wan allowed an apologetic expression to cross his own face for the briefest of moments before returning his gaze to the floor. “I have failed the Order through my own fear and uncertainty.”

“You’re a good student, Kenobi.” Kit Fisto’s voice was friendly, coaxing. A welcome difference from the confused and stern stares being pinned on him from the rest of the circle. “You don’t have to be perfect to be ready.”

“I have not rectified my mistakes, Master Fisto. Every moment that I fail to reveal my actions is a moment in which I am actively deceiving you. I cannot enter Knighthood on a lie, not when I am not the one who will face it’s consequences.” He took in a deep breath, recognizing the surprise and curiosity around the room as those in attendance waited for him to continue. “I am reporting Master Qui-Gon Jinn for conduct unbefitting of a Jedi Master. I request he be investigated. Should he be found guilty and I be left without a Master, I do not wish to take another. I will be aged out of the Order.”

The room was silent, but the shock permeating the air was strong enough that Obi-Wan was sure it would’ve been filled with surprised gasps had he not been surrounded by trained Jedi Masters. The sound of Yoda’s gimmer stick on the cold floor broke the silence as he approached Obi-Wan to look him closely in the eyes.

“Conduct unbefitting a Jedi Master, hrmm?” Yoda glanced up at where Qui-Gon was no doubt standing. Obi-Wan couldn’t bear to face him. “More to say you have, Padawan Kenobi? Explain this conduct, you will?”

“Master Jinn is guilty of the sexual molestation of his Padawan Learner.” Obi-Wan spoke plainly and without emotion, and this time there were gasps. No pretense of of calm. He tore his eyes from Master Yoda’s to stare at the floor once again, feeling a strange mixture of shame, and pride for not having let that shame touch his face or his words. For a moment nobody spoke, and then Obi-Wan felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Come.” Master Fisto’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle as he spoke, and Obi-Wan felt himself moving from his place on the floor. Emotions ebbed their way up as he rose from the meditative position, and he made a point to look straight ahead as he was led out the door. 

The descent was long, and this particular wing of the temple was one he was not accustomed to. The entire tower was only used for Trials and Knighthood Ceremonies, and as such he had visited it very rarely. The unfamiliarity with his surroundings matched his frame of mind as he realized that he no longer understood his own place in the temple. 

Master Fisto’s hand remained on his shoulder, and as they walked out of the tower and the stupor began to lift from Obi-Wan’s mind he could sense the uncertainty. Guilt flooded him as he realized his inattention to the man next to him, and he focused on relaxing his shoulders to show that the touch was welcomed. The hesitancy in the air lifted and he felt a light, comforting squeeze as he was guided silently through the temple halls.

They ended up in the dormitory area of the temple, but took a turn towards what Obi-Wan knew to be the Knight’s Billet. Fisto opened a room partway down the hall and ushered Obi-Wan in before him, finally dropping his hand as the doorway shut behind them.

His belongings were here.

“I am not a Knight.” Obi-Wan turned to face the apologetic gaze of Master Fisto. He spoke flatly. Stating a fact.

“You will not be returning to your quarters with Master Jinn, and this room has already been readied in anticipation of your trials.” Fisto sighed as Obi-Wan responded with nothing but a weary stare. “We were certain you would succeed. You are a Knight in all but name, Kenobi. Your trials have passed but your ceremony is incomplete. No room could properly reflect your rank, so you must accept this one, at least temporarily.”

Obi-Wan turned and regarded the room before him. It was smaller than the quarters he had shared with his master, but it only had to fit one person. A small and minimalistic kitchen was connected to the main room on the left, and he could see doors leading to a small bedroom and bathroom off to his right.

“I can stay if you want me to, Obi-Wan, or I can go and find out what the coming days will hold for you.” Obi-Wan heard nervous shifting behind him as Fisto mulled over his next words. “It is likely you will be asked to go to see the healers.”

“I figured as much.” Obi-Wan sighed before turning around, deliberately pulling a small, reassuring smile onto his face. He wasn’t sure if it matched what he was feeling or not. So recently the force had sung to him. He had been sure and calm. Now his emotions roiled around confusingly inside of him as the reality of the situation finally hit him. “I would appreciate if you would go and find out what is required of me. I will be fine on my own, and I’m afraid you would be terribly bored here considering I plan to go straight to bed.” It was early, but after nightfall. His retiring would not be out of the ordinary considering the events of the last two days. Master Fisto nodded in understanding and headed for the door, pausing only slightly under the frame before stepping into the hall and leaving Obi-Wan on his own.

Sleep did not come easily. As exhausted as he was, he found his new quarters stifling and overly warm. The fabric of the loose shirt and the sleep pants he had worn to bed clung to him, and the air around him was stagnant and tepid. He had thrown the sheets from himself unceremoniously, but had no desire to remove any of his clothing despite the gloss of sweat that was beginning to form between himself and the fabric, worsening the way it seemed to adhere to his skin. He pulled the hem of his shirt up enough to expose his navel, allowing air to touch his skin without stripping himself. The coolness soothed him as it touched the exposed strip of skin, and the sweat that had gathered there began to dry.

Taking him to the Knight’s Billet had been a bad idea, but Master Fisto was right. He hardly deserved to be in the temple at all at the moment, and he would have to make due with the accommodations he was being given. After all, on the assumption that Qui-Gon was no longer his master, that left him in a precarious position. It was possible another master would offer to train him, but he had already formally voiced his intention to refuse. So why was he still here at all? It wasn’t as if he deserved any hospitality. He had barely managed to become a padawan, and his apprenticeship had been rife with failure. He had even gone so far as to leave the Jedi Order at one point. Now, his final act had been to sully the name of a venerated Jedi Master. Yes, Qui-Gon must face consequences for his actions, but so must Obi-Wan.

Frustrated, he left the bed entirely and walked into the kitchen. He pulled his pant legs up over his knees and knelt down, savoring the feel of the cool tile on his legs and using the sensation to center himself in meditation. The coming days would no doubt be trying, and he needed to pull himself together. He could function without sleep, but without his calm center he would be unable to face the humiliations that lay before him. Tonight he would follow the Jedi teachings and live in the moment. Tomorrow he would consult with Master Fisto and move forward from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it looks like this may turn out to actually be an ongoing story. I originally planned to wrap things up pretty quickly here, but suddenly I was at 2,000 words and hadn't even touched on what Qui-Gon was feeling or how the Council reacted to him after Obi-Wan was taken from the room. There's also the matter of what would happen with Anakin. And I'd really like to address Obi-Wan working through his own feelings of guilt.
> 
> So I hope at least a couple of you want to see more, because I guess I'm going to be writing it. This is going to be my first time writing anything other than a one shot.


	3. An Official Statement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan gives his official statement to Master Fisto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Detailed discussion of rape, but once again, if you made it past chapter one it's probably not going to be an issue for you
> 
> Also for real, how did I get the paragraphs to indent in the first chapter? I cannot get it to work again.

“Coruscant to Obi-Wan.” Bant waved her hand as she spoke, calling attention back to her from… wherever it had been. What was he thinking about again? “Reeft said he’d meet us at the lake tonight. We figured you could use a distraction after, you know.” A jolt of panic shot through Obi-Wan’s chest. What exactly _did_ they know?

  


“After what?” He tried not to let anxiety color his voice.

  


“After, I mean,” She gestured to the colorful beads she wore in place of a braid, a sensitive expression on her face, “your trials.” Obi-Wan reflexively reached up to stroke his own padawan braid, unsure how to respond. Of course. She thought he had failed his trials. That was better than the alternative, he supposed, but his pride took a small hit as he realized that everyone in the temple would hear of his supposed failure.

  


“I thought Reeft and Master Ibes were on Malastare, overseeing the new fuel harvesting practices.” Obi-Wan dropped his hand and looked back down to the toast on his tray. It would be nice to have Reeft back, if only to have someone to give his food to in order to take attention away from his own failing appetite. Bant was giving him a pointed look already and he reluctantly took a bite.

  


“They got back last night. This morning actually, a few hours before dawn.” Bant reached over and grabbed the second piece of toast from Obi-Wan’s tray, seemingly sated by his attempts to eat the first one. He smiled in appreciation and took another bite, the task of eating suddenly seeming a little less daunting and a little more silly. “They had an uneventful mission for once. I swear, their luck is almost as bad as you and Master Qui-Gon’s.”

  


“We do have bad luck, don’t we?” Obi-Wan asked, wondering heavily what fate had met his master after his stunt with the Council. Bant snorted.

  


“That’s an understatement.” She set her half eaten toast on her tray and leaned forward conspiratorially. “So, can I ask?”

  


“Can you ask what?” Obi-Wan took a large bite of toast. If it was a question he didn’t want to answer, perhaps he could buy himself some time to think of an answer under the guise of chewing.

  


“What were the trials like?”

  


“Oh.” For some reason he hadn’t expected that question. The trials had taken a backseat to his current problems, despite the years of anticipation. “They weren’t what I thought they’d be.” He let his eyebrows knit together as he thought. “They were very… personal. The trial of the spirit especially.” He shuddered as he remembered the dark corner of his mind that he was forced to visit. The version of himself that he must make sure never came into existence. Bant opened her mouth to respond, but was distracted by something over his left shoulder. Obi-Wan turned to see Master Fisto walking up to him politely.

  


“Padawan Kenobi,” he addressed him casually, despited the formal title. “Are you busy?” Obi-Wan glanced to Bant, silently asking her if she had anything important to say to him before he answered. She shook her head minutely.

  


“Not at all Master Fisto. Did you need something?” Fisto glanced at Bant quickly before turning his head back to Kenobi.

  


“I’m heading to one of the meditation rooms. You should come with me.” The statement was phrased as a demand, but there was a casual and friendly timbre to it that only Fisto was truly able to pull off. Obi-Wan found himself nodding and standing, pushing the last bite of toast into his mouth as he bowed slightly to Bant, promising to see her and Reeft in the evening. Perhaps it was a good thing that Master Fisto had seemingly taken it upon himself to handle the dealings with Obi-Wan, he thought, as they walked silently from the refectory. This same silence with Master Windu would have felt tense and upsetting, but as it was it simply felt as if he was joining a friend for a walk around the temple.

 

“The Council would like for you to see a healer. You can choose who, but the sooner the better.” Master Fisto sounded casual as they walked into an empty hallway. As if they were discussing mundane temple gossip rather than the sensitive subject they truly were.

  


“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Obi-Wan looked up, surprised. “I’m not physically injured.”

  


“Regardless,” Fisto glanced to his side for a moment, a careful expression crossing his face for the first time since the entire situation had begun, “the Council would be more comfortable approaching this situation with physical evidence.” Obi-Wan’s gut dropped. They wanted evidence, which meant Qui-Gon’s story must not have matched his own. Perhaps he’d misunderstood the force. Blown things out of proportion. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d even done anything to try to stop his Master from—

 

“I didn’t fight him.” Obi-Wan said, staring pointedly ahead as they turned towards one of his favorite sections of the temple. “There won’t be any evidence of a struggle. Perhaps I could just withdraw my—“

  


“You will not withdraw your statement Obi-Wan.” Fisto turned to face him, hand planted firmly on his shoulder. “Master Yoda said you would try. I didn’t believe him.” He fixed Obi-Wan with a serious and searching expression that unnerved him greatly, but before he could respond the hand had turned him forward again and they were walking towards the open light and exposed colonnades of the temple’s upper levels. “Besides.” The casual air was back. “We don’t need evidence of a struggle. Any sexual contact between a Master and a Padawan is an abuse of power.”

  


“Where is Master Qui-Gon now?” The question had been burning him since he had left the Hall of Knighthood, and it practically spilled out of his mouth. They turned the corner into the sunlight, walking onto the large balcony that encircled the temple on this level. 

  


“Until there is evidence of his wrongdoing, he has simply been removed from the teaching rotation and instructed not to have any form of contact with you.” Obi-Wan released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His master was walking the temple. The thought of him confined in some way, on his behalf, had seemed wrong, and he was relieved to know that it wasn’t the reality of the situation. 

  


“What will happen to him once the Council has the evidence they need?” Obi-Wan looked resolutely forward, even as he felt Fisto glance at him. 

  


“The Council will have to vote, and if I know the Council, the debate surrounding this won’t be short or simple.” Obi-Wan veered to the side to lean on the railing, trying to think through the many possibilities regarding his master’s fate. The fate that he would suffer because of Obi-Wan. “My vote would be to expel him from the order. At the very least he will never be allowed to take a padawan again.” Obi-Wan looked up at that, startled.

  


“What will become of Anakin?”

  


“Obi-Wan,” Fisto said incredulously. “Do you really think that Master Jinn should be allowed to train him? Do you really _want_ Master Jinn to train him, after what he’s done?”

  


“He wouldn’t touch Anakin.” Obi-Wan was certain of it. “He’s a child.” Fisto gave him a curious look.

  


“You didn’t tell us the details of your situation, Obi-Wan. We were unsure if…”

  


“Never when I was a child.” Obi-Wan let the statement fall, hard and sure. “And he only—he’s only done it once. Two weeks ago. I’m 25, Master Fisto. I’m a grown man. Qui-Gon would never touch a _child_.”

  


“But he would touch the padawan under his care and direction? His pupil?” Obi-Wan was silent, wishing he could honestly say that _no, he wouldn’t_.

  


“What will become of Anakin?”

  


“Obi-Wan,” Fisto rubbed his eyes tiredly, “it took the Council long enough to debate that the _first_ time.” Obi-Wan continued to stare at the Jedi Master, silently demanding an answer. “I was never gifted when it came to precognition. I don’t know what the Council will decide.” Obi-Wan almost laughed. He had always been particularly strong with the unifying force, and precognition had been identified as one of his strengths while he was still a new padawan. It didn’t seem to matter though, as he was just as lost as the master who stood beside him.

  


“Do I need to see the healer today?” Obi-Wan sighed, tired and unsatisfied with the answer he’d gotten. Perhaps if he steered the conversation back on track he would have time to meditate before tracking down Healer Tresalis.

  


“That would be preferable.” Master Fisto responded, allowing his offhanded tone to return. “For the physical exam, at least. We’d like you to give a verbal statement of what exactly happened as well, but you can give that to anyone on the council, or any of the Master Healers.” Obi-Wan nodded, taking a moment to think. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go lie down, rest, and wake up for his reunion with Bant and Reeft, but he’d already allowed weakness to color his actions too many times of late. Master Fisto was right next to him, and the only thing stopping him from giving his statement now was his own weakness and the hold that his emotions had over him. A real Jedi would be able to let go of the trepidation. A real Jedi would calmly and accurately recount what had happened.

  


“I will give my statement to you now, if you have no objections.” Obi-Wan said, quietly. He turned and hopped up to sit on the balcony rail, facing inwards with his back to the steep multi-level drop. Master Fisto looked surprised.

  


“Do you have any qualms with me recording it? It is likely that the Council will want to hear your exact wording.” FIsto gave him a scrutinizing look as he pulled his personal data pad out and prepared to record a holo. Obi-Wan flushed for a moment, unsure that he wanted an official recording of him detailing what his master had done to him.

  


“Go ahead.” He waved his hand, attempting nonchalance but knowing that he didn’t quite reach it. This was his chance to set the record straight. He may not be going to recant his statement, but surely after they heard the full story the Council would realize they were overreacting.

  


“Very well.” Fisto responded, starting the holo recording. “You said the incident you spoke of during your knighting ceremony happened once, is that correct?”

  


“Yes.” Kenobi nodded. “Once, two weeks ago.” Perhaps Master Fisto would simply ask him questions the whole time instead of expecting him to simply recount the story. That would be easier, he thought.

  


“And before that time, you had never had any sort of sexual contact with Master Qui-Gon Jinn?”

  


“That is correct.”

  


“And you have not had any sexual contact with him since that incident.”

  


“That is correct.”

  


“When and where did this incident take place?” Master Fisto was looking at him kindly and calmly, but he still couldn’t help but take a deep breath as they approached the meat of the topic.

  


“In our shared quarters, two weeks ago. Immediately after our meeting with the Council. Anakin had been sent to the quartermaster and was to join the initiates since he didn’t have an official master. Master Qui-Gon had just recommended me for knighthood, despite my disagreeing with him in front of the Council regarding his insistence that Anakin be trained.”

  


“Was Master Jinn angry at you for publicly disagreeing with him?” Master Fisto tilted his head as he asked the question. He was legitimately curious.

  


“It was not my place to disagree with my master.” Obi-Wan answered.

  


“That doesn’t answer my question.”

  


“He was… disappointed. I think.” Obi-Wan brought his hands down to grip at the edge of the railing. “I—I don’t know if he was angry or not.”

  


“You have been Qui-Gon’s apprentice for 12 years. Could you not tell if he was angry through your training bond?”

  


“Our training bond hasn’t been particularly… active, recently.” Obi-Wan looked downwards. Maintaining a healthy training bond was as much the padawan’s responsibility as the master’s, and he had failed. “I could not tell.” Master Fisto nodded.

  


“And when you returned to your shared quarters. What happened then?”

  


“He, well. I started to bring up the Council meeting. I’d intended to thank him for recommending me, and to apologize for my brazenness.” Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably, hesitant to continue until Master Fisto gave him an encouraging nod. “I didn’t get a chance to. I had only started to speak when he grabbed me by the front of my tunics.” His hands shifted up to the low neckline of his outer tunic “Not violently, mind you,” he added when he saw the expression on Master Fisto’s face. “It wasn’t meant to hurt me but rather to direct my movement.” Obi-Wan paused again. “Exactly how much _detail_ do you expect me to go into?”

  


“We don’t expect anything from you, Obi-Wan.” Master Fisto smiled genially at him. “But as much detail as you’re comfortable with would be good. I expect the Council will want as much information as they can get to make an informed decision.”

  


“I stopped talking when he grabbed my tunics.” Obi-Wan looked down, ashamed at the admission but unwilling to leave out anything that might make the truth sound harsher than it was. He had allowed Qui-Gon to maneuver him. He hadn’t tried to fight, or to even speak his mind. “I was surprised, and I hadn’t quite realized what was happening until he’d already removed them from me.” He could feel a blush on his cheeks already and wonder how he was possibly going to make it through the rest of the story without passing out and falling backwards all the way to the depths of the Coruscant underground.

  


“He undressed you.” Master Fisto stated, bringing Obi-Wan back to the present. He looked sympathetic, and Obi-Wan felt a pang of annoyance.

  


“Yes. And he kissed me. I kept my eyes closed, Master Fisto, and our bond is so weak. I didn’t know what he was thinking and I wasn’t watching him, he could have thought that I—“

  


“What did he do next?” Master Fisto raised a hand, halting Obi-Wan’s rant. 

  


“He pushed me onto my bed. Onto my back. I heard him take his own clothes off, and then he started kissing me again.” Master Fisto nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. Obi-Wan wondered what exactly he had expected from the story if the relatively tame beginning was upsetting him. “He held me down. He continued kissing me. I didn’t respond to it, but he kept doing it. I was just sort of lying there. I think, I don’t know because my eyes were closed, but I think he wanted me to react more. He tugged on my padawan braid.”

  


“Your braid?” Master Fisto asked. Obi-Wan nodded, unsure why he had felt the need to clarify such an unimportant detail. Regardless, Obi-Wan was glad for the interruption. That was the last detail that didn’t make him want to squeeze his eyes shut, run to the lake, and jump in fully clothed. “Obi-Wan, if you don’t want to do this right now,”

  


“He used one finger first, but worked his way up to three before he had sex with me.” Perhaps if he simply cut out the details he could get this over with faster. He pointedly refused to look at the reaction of the man next to him. “I didn’t say anything—didn’t tell him to stop—but I was unable to keep myself quiet. I had never had sex before, so the entire experience was very strange.”

  


“Obi-Wan—“ Master Fisto sounded worried, and that annoyed him even further.

  


“It hurt.” Obi-Wan wasn’t going to allow Fisto to interrupt his story. He could ask all the questions he wanted after he was done. “He grabbed my braid again but I’m not sure if that was meant to chastise me for crying or if it was simply a convenient place for him to hold on.” He looked down at his lap again, still refusing to meet Master Fisto’s gaze. He hadn’t planned on mentioning that he’d cried. It was unbecoming and it would do nothing but make his situation worse. He took a deep breath and gathered himself. “He came on my stomach and he left.” Master Fisto looked slightly shocked when Obi-Wan met his eyes, but he gathered himself as well. Obi-Wan was glad for his effort.

  


“Did he say anything to you?” His voice was soft.

  


“No.” Obi-Wan replied flatly. “I asked him what I did wrong but he just left me there.” Master Fisto looked down this time and Obi-Wan could feel the sadness radiating off of him. Over a minute or two the sadness eased, and Fisto looked back up.

  


“And this was the only incident of this nature?” he questioned.

  


“Yes.” 

  


“Is there anything else the Council should know?” Master Fisto was already picking the data pad up. The interrogation was reaching it’s end.

  


“I never asked him to stop.”

  


“Obi-Wan—“

  


“I had allowed our training bond to wither.”

  


“ _Obi-Wan—_ “

  


“I had just publicly defied him, and I was only to be his padawan for weeks more at the most.”

  


“That doesn’t make it okay.” Master Fisto fixed him with a look that managed to be both soft and stern at the same time, and Obi-Wan once again felt glad that it was him who had volunteered to work with him. Regardless, he didn’t respond. He knew that Master Fisto would not take kindly to him trying to take responsibility for his actions which led to this situation, but he also had too much respect to lie to him. Instead he simply nodded.

  


“Then I have nothing further to tell the Council.” Master Fisto nodded, turning off the recording and looking at Obi-Wan expectantly. Obi-Wan quirked his eyebrow at him, unsure what he expected after the shitshow of a conversation they’d just had.

  


“Are you okay, Obi-Wan?” Fisto sighed. He looked almost as tired as Obi felt.

  


“I think… I think I need to meditate, now.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been pushing down some feelings, I think. I should at least try to release them.”

  


“If you need somebody to help—“

  


“No, no, that’s alright.” Obi-Wan took a deep breath and released it. “I’ll spend a couple hours in a meditation room. That’s where we told Bant I was going anyway.” He gave Fisto a sly smile and received a genuine, if small smile in return. “I’m meeting her and Reeft tonight. How long do you think I should expect to spend with the healers? I’d like to get it over with and I don’t want to accidentally leave my friends waiting.”

  


“I’d budget an hour or two at least. Is there a healer you’d prefer? I can make sure they’re in the healing halls this afternoon.”

  


“Tresalis.” Obi-Wan said shortly, remembering her care for him after Iktotch.

  


“She’s always in the healing halls.” Fisto said, smiling.

  


“I doubt you could convince her to leave.”

  


“Especially if she hears _you’re_ coming.” Fisto side eyed him conspiratorially and Obi felt a genuine smile creeping onto his face.

  


“I’ll never get out of there. She’ll subject me to every test in existence.”

  


“Maybe she wouldn’t do that if you didn’t avoid the healers, or downplay your injuries so much.”

  


“Maybe.” Obi-Wan conceded. “But where’s the fun in that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will probably be meditation/seeing a healer, and then we'll finally get a break from the heavy material and allow Obi to get back to a sense of normalcy with Bant and Reeft. I've got the basic plotline and ending planned out, but chapter by chapter is still a bit freeform.
> 
> I didn't proofread this so if ya'll could let me know if there's an embarrassing typo or something that'd be great. Sorry we haven't gotten into Qui-Gon's motivations, but since this story is from Obi-Wan's point of view that will have to wait either until the Council discusses it with him or until he has a confrontation with Qui-Gon himself.
> 
> Comment if you feel like it (And also if you don't feel like it. I live for comments) and thanks for reading!


	4. The Exam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan gets a physical examination from Healer Tresalis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for medical stuff and mention of rape

For the first time in his life, Obi-Wan thought that he liked the healing halls. Healer Tresalis had given him a sandwich in order to help with the nausea that would inevitably arise from the prophylactics, and she was bustling in and out of the room as he ate. The door had been left open, and he appreciated the combination of privacy and normalcy that came as a result. There was a young Togrutan padawan sitting at the one of the tables nearest to him, playing absently with her silka beads as the bacta on her leg did it’s job. 

“This shot goes with those pills you just took.” Healer Tresalis had walked back into the room, needle in hand. Obi-Wan was grateful for her timing as he saw the Togrutan girl’s master walk up to her with a glass of water and a worried expression. He missed those days.

“Nine horse pills wasn’t enough?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, but began to roll up his tunic sleeve regardless. Tresalis smiled and shook her head.

“This shot is too large for your bicep Obi-Wan, no matter how impressive you may think it is.” Her smile softened a bit. “We can close the door if you like, you’ll probably want to eventually anyway. The shot will have to go in your thigh. You don’t have to take your pants off yet, but you will need to pull them down enough for me to administer the rest of the prophylactic.”

“Right.” Obi-Wan glanced at the door, not particularly wanting to close himself off but also not wanting to go through the process that was to come with an open door. “You can go ahead and shut it then.” Healer Tresalis nodded and closed the door behind her, and Obi-Wan stood up long enough to nudge his pants down to his knees before sitting again.

“Have you washed the clothes that you were wearing during the assault?” Tresalis asked as she gently swabbed a space on his left thigh and raised the needle.

“I don’t think I’d call it an assault” Obi- Wan clarified. It wasn’t as if he’d been physically attacked.

“Is there another term you would prefer?” There was a small pinch of pain as she spoke. He spent a moment in embarrassed silence as she cleaned a droplet of blood from his thigh and covered it with a small patch. He didn’t have another term. What else could he call it?

“I don’t know.” He said instead. “Not assault, though.” Tresalis bit her lip briefly, shook her head, and continued.

“Very well, Obi-Wan.” she disposed of the needle and turned to lean against a nearby counter. “Your leg may be stiff from that shot tomorrow. Have you washed the clothes that you were wearing during your encounter with Master Jinn?” 

“Yes, I have.” He supposed encounter was better, but it still felt like the wrong word. “I’m not sure what you expect to find, considering I’ve taken about 14 showers since the encounter.”

“You’d be surprised at how persistent some evidence can be, Obi-Wan. Technology has come a long way in recent years.” She gestured to the healing halls around her. Some of the acts that had taken place in these rooms were akin to miracles. “You are right that it’s entirely possible we won’t find any evidence, but it’s also possible that we will. It’s also possible that we will find something medically relevant. The last time you were in the healing halls you confirmed that you were not sexually active. Was this the first time you’ve experienced anal penetration?” Obi-Wan felt his cheeks redden a tinge.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“That makes it all the more important that you have this examination then. Have you been experiencing any pain since the encounter? Any blood in your stool?”

“Not anymore,” Obi-Wan assured, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to worry her over a symptom that had gone away relatively quickly.

“Not anymore,” Tresalis repeated. “Can you tell me the details of your symptoms, and how long they lasted?”

“Well I was sore the next day.” He brought his hand to the back of his head. “I had some pain when I would pass a bowel movement for a few days—maybe a week—and some blood in my stool. It went away on it’s own though, and the pain was minor. I figured it was just a natural consequence of, you know.”

“Not if you do it correctly,” Healer Tresalis said, jotting something down on a sheet of paper. “Are you experiencing any pain now?”

“No.”

“I know that this encounter wasn’t your decision, but if you ever do decide to participate in anal sex, be sure that you or your partner are prepared, and always use lubricant. We have some here in the healing halls that I’m willing to let you steal from me if it means I won’t have to see you in here hurt again.” She looked at Obi-Wan expectantly and he nodded awkwardly in response. “Now. You’re familiar with swabs?” She held up a container of q-tips to punctuate her words.

“Of course.” Obi-Wan smiled at the question. He had almost vomited the last time he was in the halls, as Healer Tresalis was testing him for strep throat. 

“You’re about to hate them even more.” Tresalis grimaced good-naturedly and Obi-Wan allowed himself to chuckle back. “I’ll need to know where to swab, aside from the obvious. Anywhere that Master Jinn’s DNA could have ended up. Not just semen, but saliva, blood, or urine as well.” 

“Right.” Obi-Wan thought back to his encounter two weeks ago. “Well, there’s the obvious.”

“The anal cavity.” Tresalis nodded. “It’s also routine to take swabs from the mouth.” Obi-Wan thought a moment more and suppressed a shudder.

“He, well, he finished on my stomach.” Obi-Wan fought the urge to look away from the healer as he spoke. “I suppose you could swab there.” Tresalis jotted down a note. “My neck as well, I suppose.” He gestured to the right side of his neck, where Qui-Gon’s tongue had been. “You might have been able to find some saliva there, you know, before I took fourteen showers.”

“Is there anywhere else?” Tresalis asked, ignoring his snipe.

“No, I don’t think so.” Obi-Wan glanced up as she removed a swab from the container and used a pipette to wet it. “I’ll let you know if I realize I left something out.”

“Good. We’ll start with the easy places.” She walked forward and Obi-Wan tilted his head to make it easier for her to swab his neck. “We can do your mouth next, then your stomach. The anal cavity will be the least pleasant.” Obi-Wan nodded as she finished and selected another swab, and opened his mouth to allow her to get the evidence she needed. She placed both swabs neatly into labeled plastic bags and turned back around. “There are a few other things we can do before you have to disrobe. We already took a blood sample before I gave you the prophylactics, but it’s standard to get a fingernail scraping and a hair sample as well.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan shook his head briefly. That wouldn’t do any good. “Like I said, I didn’t fight him or anything. It’s not as if there was a struggle. There certainly won’t be anything useful under my fingernails.”

“Regardless,” Tresalis gave him a sympathetic look, “it’s standard procedure. You’re allowed to refuse any part of the examination at any time, but I’d suggest doing it if you’re comfortable with it. It’s better to have too much than not enough.” Obi-Wan nodded, and Tresalis walked forward with another plastic bag and a small wooden stick which she used to dig underneath his fingernails. She looked up at him thoughtfully as she began the scraping. “I heard you passed your trials.”

“I was under the impression that everyone thought I’d failed them.” Obi-Wan allowed himself to grimace. It should have been enough for him to know what had truly happened, but he couldn’t help feeling a pang of annoyance at the idea of such false and public knowledge of his failure.

“Most people probably think that,” she conceded, switching carefully to his left hand. “But the Council knows the truth. As do I.” She smiled up at him. “It’s a great achievement, Obi-Wan. I think we’re all surprised you’ve decided to keep your braid.”

“It’s not as if I deserved to be knighted,” Obi-Wan said, leveling Tresalis with a suspicious gaze.

“The trials say otherwise.” She finished her scrapings and began to properly document them. “As does Master Yoda, and I learned long ago not to question him,” she snorted.

“Keeping something like this a secret could have put other people in danger, and I purposefully hid it due to my own feelings.” Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want empty words and until now Tresalis hadn’t been giving him. He didn’t want that comfort to go away. “I could not enter knighthood on a lie, especially not one that could bring others to harm.” Tresalis rose her eyebrows at that before returning to quickly pluck a hair off of his head. He glared harder.

“Well,” she placed the sample in a bag, “at least you’re admitting that Master Jinn is dangerous.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“What did you say then?” She turned once again to lean on the counter and Obi-Wan stuttered minutely as he searched his mind for a response.

“Do you need me to remove my tunics yet?” he asked instead. He heard Tresalis sigh softly.

“Yes. We can go ahead and swab your stomach now.” She began to prepare another swab as he stood and shrugged off his tunics. He folded them neatly and placed them on the chair in the corner. When he turned to sit again, Tresalis was already prepared with her swab. Her face was once again professional and it calmed him. She was here to help him. He had asked for her help—specifically requested her to perform the examination. She wasn’t trying to antagonize him on purpose. He changed the subject to the first thing he could think of.

“Did the Council tell you anything about the investigation?” He kept his tone light, and was surprised that she kept her easygoing demeanor as well as she began to gently roll the swab over his stomach.

“I don’t think I know anything more than you do, Obi-Wan.” She continued swabbing, unsure where exactly the evidence could have been. “They’ve temporarily moved Master Jinn to new quarters and told him not to make contact with you. He’s been removed from the teaching rotations. You’ve been moved to the quarters you were to receive after your knighting and you’ve given testimony and are receiving a physical examination. The entire thing is being kept quiet, supposedly out of respect for your privacy.”

“My new quarters.” Obi-Wan’s eyes grew wide as Healer Tresalis turned to label her plastic bag. “How am I supposed to explain those? My friends all think I’ve failed my trials.” Tresalis paused in her tracks, eyebrows pushing down in thought.

“I don’t know,” she finally sighed. “I wish I could be of more help to you, Obi-Wan. I really do.” He looked up at her and knew from her open expression that she was being honest. He sighed back.

“You can help me by getting the rest of this exam over with as quickly as possible. What do we have left?

“Everything that’s left is below the belt, I’m afraid. swabs from your genitals and anus, a combing for any evidence that could have snagged itself in your hair, and another hair sample. I’d also like to do an anoscopy. Are you familiar with that?” Obi-Wan shook his head. He’d never been subject to this type of examination before and was unfamiliar with the terminology. She smiled at him understandingly and continued. “This.” She held up a small clear tube with a flared end, “is an anoscope. It will be inserted into your anus, which will open things up for me and allow me to get a better look. I’ll be able to check for any tearing that way, which could still be a concern even though the pain you’ve experienced has gone away. If there is tearing I’ll record photo evidence of it as well, if you consent to that.”

“Will it hurt?” Obi-Wan looked at the anoscope curiously. He wasn’t entirely convinced he wanted anything inside of him at the moment, even if it was something relatively clinical and being wielded by Healer Tresalis.

“It shouldn’t, but if you do have any tearing there is a chance it might. If you experience any pain you should tell me right away.” She waited for Obi-Wan to nod in affirmation before continuing. “More likely than not it will feel like you’re about to have a bowel movement, but it’s not particularly large and I’ll be using plenty of lubricant so it should slide right in. It’s probably best if we end with that though. I can do the combing and the hair sample first.”

“Right, that makes sense. I consent to the possible documentation.” Obi-Wan took another deep breath—he seemed to be taking a lot of those today—and began to remove his boots. Tresalis had turned around and was writing something on a sheet of paper, and he wondered absently if she actually had something she needed to write or if she was simply turning her back out of courtesy. Either way he appreciated it as he stripped himself of his pants and underthings. He folded them neatly to set above his tunics and found his hands were shaking slightly. Perhaps he was more nervous than he thought he was. After a moment or two of centering him self and releasing his anxieties into the force as best he could, he sat back down on the exam table. “So, the combing is next?”

“That’s right Obi-Wan.” Tresalis turned to face him, already prepared with a small comb. She must have been waiting out of courtesy then. “If you could lay down on your back, we’ll start with that and the genital swab. It shouldn’t take very long.” Obi-Wan nodded absently and maneuvered himself to lay on the table. He didn’t particularly like being horizontal while he was this exposed. “I hear Bant and Reeft are both in the temple. If Garen weren’t all the way out on Bespin you’d have the whole crew here. Do you have any plans?”

“We’re meeting at the lake tonight.” Obi-Wan replied absently. He appreciated Tresalis trying to distract him, but there was something fundamentally strange about discussing his childhood friends while having his pubic hair combed for evidence, and it was likely only going to get stranger as she picked up the swab. “I suppose I’ll get to see a lot of them. Usually Master Jinn and I are being constantly tossed out of the temple on missions, but they won’t be able to do that now. Maybe I’ll ask Anakin to teach me Huttese during my downtime. He could probably use a familiar face around now.” He gave Tresalis a pained smile, and she returned it. 

“We’re almost done Obi-Wan. Only the anal swab and the anoscopy left. You can either lay on your side with your knees tucked to your chest, or you can bend over the table. Whichever is more comfortable for you. Do you speak any Huttese already or will it be a new language for you?”

“I don’t speak any, no.” He shook his head as Tresalis went to retrieve the final swab and the anoscope, and decided on bending over. Perhaps remaining upright would make him feel less exposed. “I speak Rodian though, and they’re in the same language family. Hopefully that will help.”

“I wonder why they didn’t send you on the last mission to Rodia. The team they sent ended up back here in my halls after a “linguistic misunderstanding. ” He could practically hear the smile in her voice as she spoke, before it went back to pleasant professionalism. “I’m going to insert the swab now.”

“Did they tell you what they accidentally said?” He cocked an eyebrow, suddenly intensely curious. 

“Apparently one of them said ‘almina’ instead of ‘altamina.’” She chuckled as she answered. Altamina was the gerund form to “to wish,” whereas almina was a rather… crude slang for a particular bodily fluid. “During a very delicate negotiation.”

“Ah, well that’s why they didn’t send me.” Obi-Wan nodded sagely, tensing slightly as the swab was shifted inside of him.

“Why is that?”

“Are you saying I’d be your first choice to send in to handle delicate negotiations?” Obi-Wan quirked his eyebrow, although he knew Tresalis couldn’t see it. There was a joke about talking out of his ass somewhere here, but he was too nervous to make it. “My missions haven’t historically been the most diplomatic.”

“I daresay you would be, Obi-Wan.” Tresalis replied, removing the swab. All that was left was…

“Are you sure this won’t hurt?” he asked, suddenly even more nervous than before.

“It shouldn’t,” came the answer from behind him. “And if it does, I’ll stop right away.” Obi-Wan gripped the edge of the table he was leaning on and breathed in very deliberately before nodding for Tresalis to continue. “Now,” he felt the cool edge of the anoscope against him and shut his eyes, “I need you to bear down, as if you’re about to pass a bowel movement.” He did as he was told. “Good, now relax, Obi-Wan” He let the physical tension in him go, but at the same time he could feel a rise of panic clutching at his chest as she inserted the small tube.

“Stop,” he gasped out, tensing again as quickly as he had relaxed.

“Does it hurt?” Tresalis asked, all movement ceased. “Do you need me to take it out?”

“No,” he quipped back, gripping at the table. “Don’t move it.”

“I’m not going to, Obi-Wan. It’s already all the way in.” She assured him, and with the immediate threat gone he began to try to center himself. He found it surprisingly difficult to concentrate while he was wrapped around a tube. Tresalis, to her credit, didn’t say anything to startle him further. Slowly he began to release his taught muscles, and he noticed there was a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Don’t say that. It—“ Obi-Wan paused, not sure how to continue.

“What don’t you want me to say, Obi-Wan?” Her voice was soft and even, and helped center him a little more.

“Relax.” He said, more confident this time. “It’s what he said when he—“ Deep breaths. Everything was fine. 

“I won’t say it anymore.” Tresalis responded. She sounded relieved, and he supposed he was too. He might have given her quite the fright. “Do you want me to remove the anoscope? It’s already in, so I can perform the exam without moving it or touching you. If you need to stop though, that’s more important.”

“Go ahead and do the exam.” He supposed it was better that way anyway. Removing the anoscope would mean moving it, and he’d prefer to have a couple more minutes to prepare for that. He might as well allow her to perform the exam during that time.

“Do you know how to say anything in Huttese?” She asked, and Obi-Wan latched onto the opportunity for distraction.

“Anakin taught me a few words on our return trip from Tatooine, but he spent too much of his time following Padme around like a lost puppy to teach me anything substantial.” He felt the urge to smile as he remembered the boy's not-so-subtle crush, but pushed it down as he continued to focus on releasing the tension from his body.

“What words did he teach you?” 

“Murishani means bounty hunter. Anakin seemed to think it was imperative that I know that as a jedi.” He heard Tresalis chuckle a bit behind him. “He also taught me how to say “bad feeling—Dopo me goola” This time the smile that touched his face didn’t feel so forced. “Because apparently ‘that’s all I’d been saying the the entire time we were on Tatooine.’” This time Tresalis chuckled with him.

“Good news, Obi-Wan. We’re almost done. We just need to get this thing out of you. Are you ready?” He closed his eyes and examined his body. Yes, he was no longer brimming with tension. He could handle this.

“I’m ready.”

“Good. Do your best to… loosen up.” Bless her soul, not telling him to relax. “And I’m going to pull it out slowly.” He did as she said, focusing intently on staying limber as she slowly slipped the anoscope out. It wasn’t painful, but rather felt as if he had just passed a bowel movement. “And we’re done. That’s it.”

“That’s it.” Obi-Wan repeated, standing and walking over to his clothes. Tresalis handed him something to wipe the lubricant off of himself with and he dressed himself as quickly as he could, not caring for grace or the illusion of humility.

“You had some minor tearing, but it’s healing on it’s own.” Healer Tresalis was at the counter jotting something down, and he realized that she had once again turned her back to allow him privacy. “I could give you something to help it heal faster, but it would need to be applied directly. Considering your hesitation during the exam, it may be more comfortable for you to simply let it be.”

“Yes, I think I’d be more comfortable with that,” he responded gratefully, tightening the belt on his outer tunic.

“You’re in good shape, Obi-Wan.” She turned and smiled at him. “I’d like to see you again in three weeks. Prophylactics aren’t always 100% effective, and if we test you before then we may get a false negative. You should refrain from any anal penetration until that tearing is healed as well. I’d give it another two weeks. Come see me again right away if you have any pain or blood in your stool.”

“I will.” Obi-Wan gave Tresalis a genuine smile. “Thank you for not being, well,”

“I didn’t see any reason to treat you like glass, Obi-Wan. You’ve always specifically hated when I did that.” She gave him a genuine smile back. “That being said though, this is a new and uncomfortable experience for you, and we do have people here in the healing halls who you can talk to if you’d like. I’m one of those people myself, and you have my oath that I won’t go easy on you.” She began placing the plastic bags into a small container as she spoke, likely preparing everything to go wherever samples went to be tested.

“I’ll think about it,” Obi-Wan said, head cocked to the side. He hadn’t considered that, but if it was Tresalis it might not be such a horrible idea.

“Would you like the rest of your sandwich?” Tresalis gestured amiably towards the mostly eaten sandwich that had been set aside early on in the exam.

“No thank you,” he responded, reaching for the door. “I hear you’re not supposed to eat for an hour before swimming.” He stepped out into the main healing halls and shuffled past the empty table where the Togrutan girl had been sitting earlier. Behind him he heard Tresalis responding with amicable annoyance in her voice.

“That’s a myth!” He looked back and saw her tossing the sandwich in the bin anyway. “Otherwise your Calamarian friend would be skin and bones!”

“I’ll tell her you said that!” He yelled back over his shoulder as he walked out into the main hallway. He took a moment to stop and smile to himself—he was about to see Bant and Reeft, and if he could walk out of that exam smiling, then maybe tonight wouldn’t be so exhausting after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I didn't proofread this chapter either. I'm tired and in a hurry but I got excited when I finished it and wanted to upload anyway. I'll go back and proofread before I post the next chapter, but for now I hope there aren't any huge horrible glaring mistakes. Let me know if there are.
> 
> \--insert obligatory begging for comments here (really though)


	5. Old friends and New friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan talks with some of the Jedi Knights, comes clean to Bant--kind of, and catches up with old friends at the lake

Obi-Wan had to stop himself and turn back while he was already halfway to his and Master Qui-Gon’s rooms. It was strange having quarters in the Knights’ Billet, especially as he wasn’t officially a knight. He understood why he and his master had both been moved to new and separate quarters, but he couldn’t help but feel that placing him here wasn’t the best solution. He wondered if Master Jinn had been placed in the quarters reserved for Jedi Masters without padawans. That would make sense, but likely wouldn’t be the greatest of situations for him. It would place him near most of the council members, many of whom he had already been on shaky ground with before being faced with Obi-Wan’s accusation in the Hall of Knighthood.

“Kenobi! What brings you to this section of the temple?”

Shit. It was the last person he wanted to talk to right now. Well, not the last person, but pretty high up on the list.

“Knight Vos.” Obi-Wan turned to face him. He and several other knights were in the common area he had to pass in order to make it to his room. “Just, uh, taking a walk around the temple before I meet up with Bant and Reeft.” Vos raised an eyebrow at him and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The last thing he needed right now was someone with Quinlan’s talents getting suspicious of him.

“Come sit with us for a minute, kid.” He gestured amicably to the empty seat beside him. “We were all looking forward to you passing your trials. Thought for sure you were going to kill it.” Obi-Wan glanced briefly down the hallway to his quarters, but could think of no reasonable excuse to slip away. He had told them he was wandering the temple, and it wouldn’t make sense for him to reveal his quarters considering the braid he was still wearing.

“Sure thing, Knight Vos.” He shrugged nonchalantly and went to sit. Quinlan let out an annoyed groan.

“Don’t call me ‘Knight Vos.’ Too formal. Call me Quin.”

“I’ll call you Quin when you quit calling me ‘kid’. I’m barely younger than you, _Knight Vos_.”

“Fine. Obi then.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes again and there was a snicker from one of the other knights. Vos tended to have that effect on him, especially during the rare times they’d worked together in the field. His sarcasm and inability to take anything seriously may have been entertaining enough in the temple, but Obi-Wan preferred discipline and order when there was an actual task to be completed. “Meet Coleman Trebor, Bultar Swan, and Eekar Oki.”

“Nice to meet you all.” Obi-Wan put his hand out and received three handshakes in return. “I’m Obi-Wan.”

“I failed my trials too, first go around,” Bultar spoke up suddenly, a warm smile on her face. “There’s no shame in it, really. A lot of people do.”

“The only shame is having to keep that haircut.” Quinlan reached over and tugged on Obi-Wan’s braid. He pushed the offending arm away.

“Don’t _do_ that.” Obi-Wan threw his braid behind his shoulder as he spoke, and realized he might have let a little bit too much venom seep into his voice as he saw the disquiet on the faces of the knights around him. “Sorry, uh, Quin.” He looked at the ground, knowing he’d overreacted. “I’m just,” what could he say? _Sorry Quin, please don’t pull on my braid. The only person who’s allowed to do that is my master, and he’s definitely not allowed anymore considering the context of the last time he had his hands there._ “I’m still a little down about the trials. I don’t need a reminder that I failed right now.” He was lying through his teeth and he knew it. There was no way Vos didn’t know it too.

“Ah, so that’s why you’re wandering the Knights’ Billet.” Eekar gave him a smirk. “Self flagellation.” Obi-Wan gave a smile and a laugh at the accusation, and Bultar and Coleman chuckled along

“I got roped into teaching a lightsaber class to some older padawans today. Master Jinn was on the docket but got removed last minute.” Quin quirked his eyebrow, evidently undistracted by Eekar’s joke. “Figured he got thrown on another mission, but if you’re still his padawan and you’re still here, he must be too. He okay?”

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan barely got the word out. For a second he felt like a pilot stuck in a tractor beam—sidelined by a question he had no answer to—before the perfect answer clicked into his brain. “He’s facing some… disciplinary action. Got on the wrong side of the Council one too many times.” Technically it was true, and it got a genuine laugh from the knights around him. Master Jinn’s touch and go relationship with the Council was common knowledge.

“So what did he do this time?” Coleman asked, a curious smile on his face. Obi-Wan thought for a moment and found another half-truth coming far more easily than it should have.

“Brought a stray nine year old back to the temple and insisted he be trained.”

“Force,” Quin spoke up, “imagine coming to the temple at that age. What about the boy’s parents?

“His mother is still on Tatooine,” Obi-Wan elaborated. “But the more interesting question is what about his _midichlorian count_?” He paused to allow the faces around him to become curious and then leaned in conspiratorially. “Twenty-seven thousand.” Bultar let out a gasp.

“You’re shitting me, Kenobi.” Quin popped an eyebrow up in amusement. “When did you grow a sense of humor?”

“I’m not kidding, Quin. I tested his blood myself, and got it confirmed the second we got back to the temple.”

“Yes, but—“

“Obi!” Bant’s voice rang out from behind him and he turned to see his friend standing in the hallway, hands on hips.

“What, _she_ gets to call you Obi?” Quin ran a fist into his arm playfully.

“You already call me that.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “As if I could ever stop you. What is it Bant?”

“I’ve been looking all over for you! When you weren’t in your quarters, the salles, the refectory, the room of a thousand fountains—you know, anywhere you usually are—I decided to see if you’d come over here to mope.”

“I’m not moping,” Obi-Wan responded, scandalized. The knights sitting around him laughed and he felt a blush creep onto his face. Bant gave him a knowing look, but dropped the subject regardless.

“Reeft is already at the lake. I came to collect you. Care to walk with me?”

“I’m not really dressed for swimming right now, Bant.” He gestured to his tunics. “And I’m not letting Reeft push me in fully clothed again. I’ll go change and meet you both on the lake level.”

“I’m not in a rush!” Bant smiled at him. “We can stop by your quarters on the way.”

“Go on, Obi.” Quin punched him lightly on the arm again. “Don’t leave your girlfriend waiting because of us decrepit old knights.”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” Obi-Wan sniped back, garnering a chuckle from a couple of the people gathered as he stood. “Thank you for the distraction. All of you.”

“Of course, Obi-Wan,” Bultar spoke up again, shooting daggers at Quin when he opened his mouth, no doubt to say something snarky. “You’re welcome to talk to us anytime. Now go see your friend.” Obi-Wan nodded and walked off towards Bant, shaking his head and pulling her further down the hallway of the Knights’ Billet when she began to turn the other way, clearly expecting their destination to be his and Master Qui-Gon’s old quarters. He didn’t want to tell her what exactly was happening, but he didn’t want to hide anything from her either. She would just have to understand.

He looked both ways down the hallway before opening his door, making sure that nobody else would see. He was already going to be facing a slew of questions from Bant, if the look on her face was anything to go by, and he didn’t want to have to deal with anyone else. He ushered his friend in before him and shut the door carefully before turning around.

“These are my new quarters.” Bant looked at him curiously as he spoke, waiting for further explanation. “Do you remember when Bruck died?” She let her arms drop as she regarded him.

“Of course I do, Obi, but that happened 12 years ago. What could it possibly have to do with this?” She gestured to his rooms.

“You used to meditate with me, in the room of a thousand fountains. Near the waterfall where he had tried to kill you.” Obi-Wan paused and brushed his hand across his face, trying to plan his words as best he could. “People kept trying to make me talk about it, but you knew it was something I had to acknowledge within myself. You didn’t press me, just recognized my struggle and sat by my side. That’s what I need from you now, Bant.” He looked her in the eyes, open and honest. “The Council is aware of my full situation out of necessity, but I’m not ready to tell anyone else. I can’t lie to you, Bant. I’ll tell you everything if you ask—you know I will—but please don’t. Please, just accept the information I give you and stand by my side.” Bant looked back at him appraisingly and he could see a wisdom and age in her eyes that surpassed his own despite him being two years her senior.

“I won’t ask you to tell me anything you don’t want to.” She gave a terse nod and a fleeting smile. She was still curious, but if there was anyone he could trust not to pry it was her. Obi-Wan smiled back.

“Then feel free to explore my new quarters while I change into something appropriate for the lake. Although I’m afraid I’ve only just moved in. It’s still rather empty.” He put his hand on Bant’s shoulder as he passed her on his way to the bedroom, feeling a bundle of tension leave him as he did so. He could confide in Bant, slowly, in time. He didn’t have to hide from her. It was a weight off his shoulders. Quickly as he could he changed into a pair of swimming shorts and replaced his pants and tunics back over the top, preferring to be traditionally dressed during his walk to the lake, and then returned back to the main room. He was greeted with the sight of Bant rifling through his mostly empty kitchen cabinets.

“I’ll have to get you some tea as a housewarming present,” she smiled at him as he walked out. “I can’t believe you don’t have any on hand, considering how often you drink the stuff. What’s your favorite kind?”

“Ceylon,” he replied. He suddenly craved a cup and wished he had stolen some from Master Qui-Gon before he’d ended up here.

“Ceylon,” she repeated, committing it to memory. “Am I supposed to hide my knowledge of your new quarters from Reeft?” she asked suddenly, making for the door and gesturing for Obi-Wan to follow her. “Is it some big secret that I’m in on now?”

“It’s not really a secret,” he elaborated, following her out the door. “It’s just difficult to explain without having to talk about things that are a secret, and I don’t want people asking about it.”

“Let’s just do our best to avoid the subject for now then, shall we?” She elbowed him good-naturedly as they walked to the nearest lift and programmed it to the lake level.

“I’d appreciate that, Bant. To be honest, I’ve had quite enough talk about, all that,” he swept his arms in front of himself vaguely as he spoke, “for today. I’d rather a nice swim, a good distraction, and all the stories from you and Reeft’s most recent travels.” Bant smiled in response.

“Master Fisto and I only returned from Mygeeto a few days before you and Master Jinn got back from Naboo.” Obi-Wan gave her a disbelieving look.

“You two went to Mygeeto at least a month before we set out,” he responded, shocked. “I thought it was supposed to be a fairly routine mission.”

“It was.” She turned to regard him with a sly smile. “Until we found evidence of corruption within the InterGalactic Banking Clan.” Obi-Wan allowed his eyes to widen in curiosity as he urged his friend to continue. “I’m sure Reeft will want to hear the story too, and I don’t want to tell it twice. You’ll have to wait.” She rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm. “Speaking of Reeft, any subjects you’d like help steering him away from? You don’t have to tell me why, but I can’t help you avoid questions if I don’t know which questions you want to avoid.” Obi-Wan contemplated her for a moment before feeling content with her sincerity.

“Anything about my new quarters, of course.” He saw Bant nodding along as he spoke. “Any questions about Master Jinn, or why he’s been removed from the teaching rotation. Any questions about what’s been going on with me since I returned to Coruscant, really.”

“So does that mean questions about the kid you and Jinn brought back from your mission to Naboo are fair game?” Bant smiled at him as the lift opened and they both stepped into the fresh, humid air of the lake level.

“His name is Anakin, and yes, you’re allowed to ask about him,” Obi-Wan turned to get her back for elbowing him earlier, but was interrupted by a weight pushing suddenly into his back and causing him to topple onto the ground. It took a moment for the weight to register in his brain as Reeft, but once he did he found himself laughing and playing along. His small size was actually an advantage against Reeft, who was accustomed to being able to muscle his way to victory and wasn’t used to opponents being able to wriggle from his grasp. Soon, Obi-Wan found himself the victor as Bant looked on, unimpressed.

“I swear, you two haven’t matured a day since we met.” Bant was already getting ready to jump in the water as she spoke, and Obi-Wan had to push down the ridiculous urge to parrot the comment back to her.

“I’m joining you!” he yelled back instead, letting Reeft escape from his pin and standing to remove his tunics. “I’ve been dreaming of a good swim ever since I got back from Tatooine. That planet is a nightmare!”

“I thought your mission was to Naboo,” Reeft chimed in, pulling his own tunics over his head.

“It was, but we ended up with a busted hyperdrive. Got ourselves stranded in the middle of the desert on that backwater hellhole.” He gave his friend a pained look, and got an apologetic one in return. “What about you and Master Ibes? Anything exciting happen for you two while I was away?” he asked, wandering towards the edge of the lake.

“Not particularly,” Reeft shrugged. “You and Bant got all the fun this go around. Master Binn and I just helped smooth along some negotiations on Taanab. Everything’s so formal there, I thought my head was going to explode.” Reeft ran and jumped into the lake, splashing Obi-Wan unceremoniously and prompting him to follow suit. The water was chilly and refreshing, and the way that the water flushed out sound as he was submerged was a welcome feeling. The feeling quickly turned into indignation though as he felt Reeft trying to dunk him, and he kicked out at the larger boys legs until the grip ceased and he was allowed to resurface.

“Dick!” he yelled out, splashing water into the other boy’s face. “What are you, seven years old?”

“I had to get you back for the pin!” He shouted back, indignant.

“You’re the one who tackled me!” Obi-Wan shot back before being splashed again, this time by Bant. She must have used the force to help the water along considering how far away she was.

“Both of you be quiet or I’m not telling you about Mygeeto.” She dove under the water and resurfaced surprisingly close to them. Obi-Wan reminded himself that she could probably defeat both of them one handed now that they were in the water.

Bant’s story turned out to be just as interesting as promised. Master Fisto had butted heads with a Muun named San Hill after finding evidence of illegally inflated interest rates with certain businesses, and they were still pouring over the documents they’d brought back in an effort to find what set those particular businesses apart from others. A pang of guilt and sadness ran through Obi-Wan’s heart as he thought about how much Master Tahl would have excelled at the assignment, but he was sure that Bant and Fisto had things under control.

“Your turn, Obi.” Reeft shot him an openly curious look. “Who’s the kid?”

“His name is Anakin. He was a slave on Tatooine. Nine years old, so traditionally far too old to become a Jedi, but his midichlorian count is unheard of. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t been the one to run the numbers myself. I even made Healer Tresalis double check them for me.”

“That high, huh?” Reeft laughed. “Is the kid gonna be the next Yoda? He’s about the right size.” Obi-Wan chuckled, but Bant didn’t see as much humor in it if the way she dunked Reeft was any indication.

“Higher than Yoda’s.” Obi-Wan said as his friends resurfaced.

“So is that why Master Jinn was removed from the teaching rotations then?” Reeft shook his head abruptly, causing water to fly everywhere. “Get in some sort of brawl with the council over whether we should keep the kid or not?”

“What did you say the kid’s count was again?” Bant cut in. Obi-Wan gave her a wide and honest smile at the obvious deflection.

“Twenty-seven thousand,” he specified, earning himself two unbelieving gasps.

“Impossible.” Reeft cocked his head to the side.

“Oh, it’s possible,” Obi-Wan responded. “Twenty-seven thousand midichlorians crammed into one tiny, overconfident, overenthusiastic, loudmouthed kid.”

“He’s _nine_ , Obi. Don’t be too hard on him.” Bant, always the voice of reason.

“Don’t get me wrong Bant, he’s a sweet kid, it’s just—“ he wasn’t sure what to say. Somewhere deep down he couldn’t help but feel that if he and Master Qui-Gon hadn’t all but crashed into that god forsaken planet everything would be normal right now. “I don’t think he should be trained as a Jedi.”

“No shit,” Reeft snorted. “He’s too old, and if all it took was midichlorians I can think of plenty of kids who shouldn’t have been sent into the corps.” Obi-Wan nodded back.

“Most of the Council agrees, but he’s here now so I suppose something will have to be done. It’s not as if we can just sell him back into slavery.

“Maybe he can study in the creche, and join the corps when he turns thirteen,” Bant spoke up. “Just because he’s too old to ever become a knight doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be able to use his force sensitivity to help people.”

“I suppose I’d like it if he got to stick around.” Obi-Wan pushed himself underwater again and surfaced face up, taming the small pieces of his padawan haircut. “I had a dream on the return trip that he was my padawan, but I don’t think it was my prescience. I’ll only be twenty-nine when he turns thirteen, and I’m not even a knight yet. Besides, I still don’t think he should be trained by _anyone_.” Bant and Reeft nodded along, treading water. “I still want to keep my eye on him, though. I don’t want him to get into any trouble here. He’s probably already feeling lost enough as it is.”

“You should visit him,” Bant said flippantly, but he knew she was serious despite her casual tone.

“I plan to,” Obi-Wan assured her. “This last couple of weeks have just been a little strange.” Obi-Wan found himself yawning against his will as he spoke, and he realized just how long the day had been. “What time is it?”

“Late enough,” Bant said, starting for the shoreline.

“Says you,” Reeft shot back. “We’re hardly ever in the temple at the same time. Sleep can wait!” Obi-Wan almost rolled his eyes. Reeft had always seemed to need less sleep than the rest of the temple.

“Try that argument when Garen’s here,” he quipped back. “The rest of us need some shuteye. You never know when they’re going to chuck us back out into space again.” He reached the shore and walked over to his clothes, shaking dry as best he could without a towel before beginning to pull them on.

“Yeah, two whole weeks in the temple without a single kidnapping.” Reeft reached the shore and shook like an animal before starting to tug his own clothes on. “Must be a record for you and Master Jinn. I bet you hardly know what to do with yourselves.”

“Why would I need a kidnapping when I have you, Reeft?” Obi-Wan looked up at him playfully from where he was sitting and pulling on his boots. “You’re almost as dangerous, and twice as annoying.” Reeft gave him a mock hurt look and clutched his hand over his heart.

“Don’t undersell him, Obi,” Bant smiled cheerfully at them both. “He’s at least four times as annoying.” Obi-Wan chuckled with her as they all finished dressing and made for the nearest lift. They’d begun walking towards the wing of the temple for padawan/master shared quarters, making plans for breakfast along the way, and Obi-Wan was searching his mind for an excuse to leave, when Bant cut in for him.

“Obi, didn’t you need to return that jolt cell to Knight Vos?” Bant turned and gave him a meaningful look, and he tried his best to turn his grateful one into one of surprise and forgetfulness.

“I had completely forgotten I had it. Have you seen him around?”

“I’d check the Knights’ Billet,” Reeft responded, unperturbed.

“Right.” Obi-Wan nodded. “See you tomorrow then?” He looked questioningly at his friends as their forward motion stopped, and Bant rolled her eyes at him.

“You’re not getting out that easy, Kenobi,” she said, and he didn’t have time to ask what she meant before her arms were wrapped around him. Reeft slammed bluntly into the hug a moment later, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile.

“Okay, okay you two. We’re adults.” He couldn’t keep the joviality from his voice no matter how he tried. “Surely we can keep the group hugs to an acceptable length.

“The only acceptable length for a hug is forever, Obi,” Bant said back, but she let go nonetheless. Reeft followed suit quickly, smirking playfully. “But yes, we’ll see you tomorrow. Refectory. Don’t be late.” She threw a finger at him accusingly and he laughed as she turned around, assuring her that _yes_. He would be on time. And with that, he turned around himself, dreaming up ways he could sneak past the open socialization area in the Knights’ Billet as he snuck back to his rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments on the last chapter you guys. I was having a bit of writers block when it came to the transition from Obi's conversation with Quinlan to him making it to the lake, and ya'll really made writing that section a lot of fun even though I had to delete it about a million times.


	6. Meditation Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan teaches Anakin how to meditate

Anakin practically tackled Obi-Wan the moment he set foot in the creche, and it made him feel guilty for not having visited sooner. He’d been so swept up in his own emotions regarding the events surrounding his return to Coruscant—and the bitterness regarding the child due to Qui-Gon’s eagerness to train him—that he had convinced himself he didn’t have the time. Of course, he _had_ had the time. He simply hadn’t wanted to face the boy.

 

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin’s voice was slightly muffled due to the intensity with which he was hugging his leg. “This place is _insane!_ Did you really get to grow up here?” Obi-Wan laughed at the boy’s enthusiasm and he knelt down as soon as his leg was released.

 

“Yes, I did. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, and I’d like to apologize for not coming to see you sooner.” 

 

“That’s alright.” Anakin beamed at him. “Master Qui-Gon said you were busy preparing for your trials. He’s going to train me after you become a knight!” Obi-Wan closed his eyes at the boy’s words, not wanting to have to be the one to break the news to him. He was so excited it almost hurt to see.

 

“You know, initiates have until they’re thirteen to be selected as a padawan.” Perhaps he could let the kid down easy. Let him know Qui-Gon didn’t have to be his only chance at being a Jedi, even if the chances of it happening at this point were slim. “Perhaps it would be beneficial for you to spend some time here in the creche, studying up on the basics.”

 

“Master Qui-Gon can teach me the basics!” Anakin mimed swinging a lightsaber, working out some of his boundless energy. “And you could help too! I mean, if you still want to see me once you’re a knight.” He looked up at Obi-Wan openly. He clearly wanted him to say yes.

 

“Of course I’ll want to see you, Anakin.” His words were met with a bright and innocent smile. “But you should know that the situation has, well, changed.” He watched as the blind happiness disappeared.

 

“The Council said he couldn’t train me.” He looked down sullenly and Obi-Wan reached out automatically to comfort him.

 

“The Council has not yet decided your fate, Anakin. The problem lies with Master Jinn. He will not be permitted to take another padawan after me, and he may be expelled from the order.” Obi-Wan searched for something else to say as Anakin looked up at him dejectedly.

 

“They won’t vote to train me. Even you don’t think I should be trained—you said so to the Council—and you helped bring me here.”

 

“I, well, I won’t ever lie to you Anakin.” He looked down at the boy softly. “I do think you’re too old to begin training to become a knight, but there are other ways to serve the Jedi Order. Did you know I was almost sent to the AgriCorps?” Anakin shook his head, obviously still devastated. “Not all initiates get chosen to be a padawan. Some are chosen to help the galaxy in other ways. Using the force to help feed the hungry or heal the sick. Or you could be assigned to the ExplorCorps. You’d still get to train here, and you’d still get to see the galaxy.” Anakin gave him a blank look.

 

“Master Qui-Gon said I would be a Jedi,” he practically whispered.

 

“Master Qui-Gon had no right to say that.” Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “You still have four years. If you want to be a Jedi, then prove that you’re worthy. That is what I had to do, and it is what all initiates have to do. Do you truly want to be chosen because of your blood, rather than your efforts?” Obi-Wan fixed him with a meaningful gaze, and he felt the boy shift under it.

 

“I guess not.” He looked up, curious. “But everything I try to do here is so _hard_. I can hardly even meditate right, and all of the kids my age can do it so easy. The crechemasters are nice, but they have to take care of _all_ of us. How am I supposed to learn without a Master to help me catch up?”

 

“I’ll make you a deal.” Obi-Wan allowed a sly smile to touch his face. “I was going to ask you to help me learn Huttese. You do that, and I’ll help you with the subjects you’re having trouble with.” Anakin returned his smile, and Obi-Wan was floored by how quickly the child could switch gears. A moment ago he had been all but accusing him of tossing him to the wayside.

 

“Really, Obi-Wan?” There was a hopefulness in his voice that made his heart split in two.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“Can we start now?” 

 

“Of course.” Obi-Wan couldn’t have refused him if he’d tried. “Go tell Crechemaster Samun that I will be borrowing you for the evening.” He watched as Anakin ran off to the middle aged man in the corner of the room, and smiled assuringly when he was pinned with a curious gaze. After a moment the man nodded, and Anakin came bounding back, grabbing Obi-Wan’s hand and practically pulling him from the room.

 

“Slow down, Anakin.” Obi-Wan halted just outside the door, forcing the boy to stop with him. He waited for the boy to look up at him before continuing. “Patience.”

 

“That’s what everyone here keeps saying,” Anakin muttered, almost under his breath.

 

“I’d say it’s a lesson you’ll need to learn quickly, but that would be a bit contradictory, wouldn’t it?” He squeezed Anakin’s hand and began walking away from the creche at a decidedly leisurely pace. Anakin matched his speed, and out of the corner of his eye he could see the way he glanced up at him curiously every minute or so. The boy could barely contain his blind curiosity. It wouldn’t be long before he’d demand to know where they were going.

 

“Where are we going?” Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly and released the child’s hand just long enough to ruffle his hair before returning it.

 

“We are going to learn how to meditate,” he said simply, amused when Anakin gave him a pinched look at the cryptic answer. He slowed his pace minutely, getting far too much joy out of the way Anakin bristled in response. Anakin turned to speak to him twice more during their walk, but turned back forward as he thought better of it. Obi-Wan felt a touch of pride at his efforts. 

 

Anakin actually gasped when they walked into the room of a thousand fountains, and it made Obi-Wan wonder what he would have thought of the room had he been introduced to it when he was already nine years old. Even having grown up with the room’s constant presence he still found it entrancing. Without thinking, he began to lead them down the winding path towards the waterfall that he and Bant used to meditate over. He could feel the place calling to him, telling him it was the ideal place for his lesson.

 

“I take it you have not yet been introduced to the room of a thousand fountains?” Obi-Wan looked to his side and saw Anakin looking around in awe. This room was the antithesis of the desert planet he had grown up on.

 

“A _thousand_?” His eyes were saucer wide. “No way.”

 

“I haven’t actually counted them, so I can’t tell you for sure if the name is literal or not.” Obi-Wan continued leading Anakin through the twists and turns of the artificial ecosystem, stopping to allow him to inspect various fixtures and fauna. “Many of the temple’s occupants find this area to be soothing. I meditate here regularly, as do many others. Tell me Anakin, does the force feel different here than it does in the rest of the temple? Or on Tatooine?” Anakin stopped as they passed over a bridge to admire the water lilies underneath. It occurred to Obi-Wan that he had probably never seen them before.

 

“It feels stronger here.” Anakin looked up at him, mystified. “It’s stronger in the temple than on Tatooine, but here it’s like I can feel it in every single flower.”

 

“It’s called the living force, and it exists in all living things.” Obi-Wan used the force to open one of the Lilies beneath them into bloom. “You can sense it in the population of Coruscant, and in the plants that reside in this room. That power is inside of you as well.” Anakin watched the flower below them, transfixed. 

 

“It feels warm, here. In the temple.” Anakin glanced up at him eagerly and followed as Obi-Wan led them further down the path. They were almost to the place where he planned to settle them both for the time being.

 

“The light side of the force is often described that way.” They reached the stone overlooking the waterfall and subsequent pool, and Obi-Wan helped Anakin scramble atop it before settling into a lotus position. Anakin followed suit with the natural flexibility of an active child. “You are anxious.” Obi-Wan made it a statement rather than a question, but he waited for Anakin to nod his head regardless.

 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.” Anakin took Obi-Wan’s hands as they were offered to him. “And everything here feels so… big.”

 

“Those who are new to meditation often think that they need to cast out all of their emotions and anxieties, but that isn’t true. Do you know why I chose this spot, Anakin?” The boy shook his head, and Obi-Wan turned to look down across the spraying waters below them. “My friend almost died here. Another boy, an initiate the same age as me with whom I was not friendly, died here at my hand.” Anakin looked back at him, distressed.

 

“How can you clear your mind?” Anakin was as confused as he was scared, and Obi-Wan’s heart went out to him.

 

“We cannot hide our emotions, Anakin. We cannot push them down and refuse to feel them. When your teachers speak of releasing your emotions into the force, know that it cannot be done without first feeling them, observing them, understanding them. Only then can the force shoulder your burden.” He smiled, but it was a sad smile. “Had I avoided this place, I would never again have experienced it, and while the sadness that I feel for Bruck still exists it no longer defines me. Instead it is another thread of the force that lives within this room.”

 

“How did you do it?” Anakin whispered, gripping Obi-Wan’s hands tighter.

 

“Close your eyes,” Obi-Wan instructed, leaving his own open to watch the boy. “This will not be easy for you. You will have many threads within yourself to decipher before you will be able to reach a true meditative state, but the only way to achieve that is through patience and perseverance.” Anakin nodded softly, eyes still shut. “Focus on this moment, Anakin. Nothing else. What do you feel?” There was a pause as Anakin struggled to do as he was told.

 

“Lost,” he answered.

 

“Why do you feel that way?” Anakin scrunched up his eyebrows.

 

“I’m alone. My only family is on Tatooine. I am in a place that is large and unfamiliar. People expect things of me that I never learned how to do.” Anakin squeezed at Obi-Wan’s hands, and Obi-Wan squeezed back reassuringly.

 

“The force can help you to shoulder this burden Anakin, but before you can pass it on you must understand it fully. I want you to feel the force in this room, and as you do so I want you to think about the things you have just told me. Examine them thoroughly, even if it hurts, and allow the warmth of this temple to ease your pain.” Anakin nodded.

 

“What about you?” he said hesitantly.

 

“I have my own issues to meditate on. Do not worry about me.” He saw Anakin nod once more before taking a deep breath, and he felt some of the tension held in the boy’s hands release. Slowly, he closed his own eyes and began to look within himself.

 

Obi-Wan found himself meditating on the early days of his training with Master Qui-Gon. His feelings of worthlessness and incompetence regarding the man’s initial rejection and dismissal of his efforts had been dragged back out upon Anakin’s arrival, although he had believed them dealt with long ago. Worse still, he realized he had already begun perpetuating the same cycle. Despite feeling as if he had fully broached the subject the feelings would not release into the force, and Obi-Wan knew he still had work to do if he was to truly deal with his feelings of inadequacy. As it stood though, at least he had a starting point—which was important considering the restless stirring he felt in the boy in front of him.

 

“You’ve done well, Anakin.” Obi-Wan opened his eyes and watched as Anakin mirrored him, looking tired. 

 

“I still feel scared.” Anakin shook his head, dismayed.

 

“But you have taken steps towards banishing it.” Obi-Wan stood, releasing Anakin’s hands and placing one on his shoulder instead as they climbed down from the boulder. “I was also unable to fully unravel my own anxieties.” He allowed a bashful look to cross his face as Anakin looked up at him incredulously. The boy really did think highly of him. “It is something even the most experienced Jedi Masters have trouble with, and your peers have had at least five or six years longer than you to practice.”

 

“I guess,” Anakin responded. He sounded convinced, but tired.

 

“Anakin, I want to apologize for my behavior.” They began their walk down the winding path they had entered on, perusing the bridge that overlooked the lilies.

 

“You don’t have to. I understand you were busy.” Anakin looked off the path as he spoke, not making eye contact. Obi-Wan would not allow the same insecurities to be placed in this boy that had been placed within himself.

 

“Not just that, Anakin. You were present when I told the Council I didn’t believe you should be trained. That was incredibly insensitive of me.”

 

“At least you didn’t lie to me.”

 

“I allowed my jealousy to color my actions, Anakin. At no point in the weeks since you’ve met me have you done anything to show that you were anything other than competent, brave, and willing to learn. I judged you prematurely, before you even had a chance to prove yourself. I want you to know that my actions do not reflect your worth, but rather my own insecurities.” Anakin practically balked at him.

 

“Why would _you_ be jealous of _me_? You’re going to be a _Knight_.” Obi-Wan cast his eyes downwards, still saddened by the events he spoke of.

 

“I believed that Master Qui-Gon was sending me to my trials before I was ready because he no longer wished to have me as a padawan. I resented the fact that you were to be my replacement. Seeing you made reminded me of my Master’s dismissal, and made me feel inadequate. It was unfair of me to take those feelings out on you” They were almost out of the room now, but their progress was halted as the child beside him launched into another hug. Obi-Wan found himself kneeling down to return it, and something inside of him healed as he felt the pure, silent forgiveness that Anakin was offering him. 

 

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin pulled just far enough out of the hug to look Obi-Wan in the eyes.

 

“What is it, Anakin?” he asked warmly. 

 

“Is it my fault that Master Qui-Gon is in trouble?” Obi-Wan’s heart broke and he pulled Anakin back into the hug, wrapping his arms tighter.

 

“No, Anakin, it’s not your fault.” He rubbed his thumb in soothing circles on Anakin’s shoulder. “It’s my fault.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “And his own. He hurt someone, Anakin, very badly. He hurt someone and now he has to face the consequences, regardless of his motivations.” Obi-Wan felt a tear escape his eye and he realized that he’d cried more in the past two weeks than he had in the previous fifteen years.

 

“Why would he do that?” Obi-Wan could hear that Anakin was crying as well, overwhelmed by the assurance of his own innocence and the declaration of guilt regarding the man he had trusted.

 

“I don’t know, Anakin.” Obi-Wan gripped the boy tighter. Protectively. “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little short, but I feel like it's the right length so I'm not going to try to pad it.
> 
> Hope ya'll are enjoying! Your comments are giving me life.


	7. Hot Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan gets a message from the Council, chats with Quinlan Vos, and accidentally decides to take some action

There was a message from Master Windu when Obi-Wan woke up in the morning, and he knew what it was going to say before he checked it. Seeing that he had another one almost immediately afterwards from Master Fisto only confirmed his suspicions. The Council was ready to make their judgement. It had only been a week since he’d reported the incident, and Obi-Wan spared a thought wishing that they could be this productive when it came to, well, literally any other issue. He was supposed to report to the Council Chamber at the fifteenth hour, and both Windu and Fisto had asked if he would be comfortable being in the same room as Master Jinn, although Master Fisto had phrased it a bit more delicately. He sent a message to Windu saying that he would be fine, and confirming that he would be there promptly at the fifteenth hour. After a moment’s thought, he sent another message to Fisto in order to assure him that he would not be upset by his master’s presence. 

 

A bit anxious at the now looming notion of the Council session, Obi-Wan wandered into his kitchen. Bant had stopped by the other day with a rather large amount of Ceylon tea, and he had slowly begun filling the area with the other items which reflected his new life there. His things had been unpacked and there were pots and pans drying on one side of the sink. It was the kitchen of someone who enjoyed to cook, but who also was exceedingly tidy. Water was now warming on his stove, and he walked back to his bedroom to change from his sleep clothes into his tunics. There was a knock at his door and he walked languidly towards it. Only a select few people knew he lived here, so his guest would have to be either a Council member, Bant, or Anakin. It was highly unlikely that Anakin had been allowed to leave the creche without his knowledge, and Windu and Fisto had already left messages so it was unlikely that they had planned to visit him. His credits were on Bant.

 

Surprisingly enough, it was none of the above. Obi-Wan straightened into a less relaxed posture and searched for some sort of explanation when he saw Quinlan Vos leaning casually against his doorframe.

 

“Thought I saw you come in here last night,” he remarked. His voice was casual and amused. He thought it was funny that he’d caught Obi-Wan lying. “Doesn’t make any damn sense, but sure enough, here you are.” With that, the knight walked past Obi-Wan into the room.

 

“Ah, yes. Come right in, Vos.” Obi-Wan turned to regard the man who was now looking curiously around the room. This wasn’t how he wanted to start his morning. 

 

“Quin,” he corrected, turning to face Obi-Wan, a sly smile on his face. “I looked up the room number because I was curious which knight you were shacking up with, but you were listed as the sole occupant.” Obi-Wan let out a sigh and walked to his kitchen, collecting his hot water and beginning to steep his tea. It seemed he’d be making it extra strong today.

 

“Did you tell anyone else?” He leaned against the counter, fixing Quinlan with a pained look and being met with surprise and a confused shake of the head. Obi-Wan felt a pang of relief. “Well, please don’t. It’s likely everyone will know my situation by this evening anyway, but I’d still rather not be bothered about it if that’s an option.” Quin moved to lean against the other side of the counter, somehow weedling his way into his personal space despite the surface between them.

 

“Your situation?” Quinlan tilted his head to the side, and Obi-Wan went to collect a mug. He seemed to recall Vos not liking his tea too strong, and if he was going to offer some now would be the appropriate time.

 

“Tea?” he asked, pulling two mugs out of the cabinet to the left of the stove. He saw Quin nod and poured a cup, leaving one empty as he waited for his own to steep a bit longer. “I’m no longer Master Jinn’s padawan.” He walked over and handed the cup to the confused knight before him, leaning down once more and not elaborating any further. There was a moment of silence as Vos waited for him to continue, but true to his nature he couldn’t wait long before prodding him again.

 

“You’re still wearing his braid.” Quinlan made a gesture to Obi-Wan’s hair before taking a sip of his tea.

 

“Of course I am. I haven’t been knighted yet.” Obi-Wan turned and walked over to the pot of tea once more. It wasn’t ready yet, but he needed to move around. “The Council is voting over whether or not Qui-Gon will be ejected from the Jedi Order later today. I’m still a padawan, but I have no master.” He saw the incredulous look on Quin’s face out of the corner of his eye. Everyone in the temple would likely know about this the moment he left Obi-Wan’s quarters. Then again, they’d know the moment the Council made a decision anyway. What was a few hours, really?

 

“Why the fuck would they eject Master Jinn from the order?” Quin set his mug down. Hard. He looked concerned and clearly expected Obi-Wan to feel the same. “He’s been on Coruscant for almost a _month_. We would’ve heard if he’d done something that stupid.” Obi-Wan gave him a pitying smile, trying to decide how much of the truth he wanted the temple to know. The more they knew, the more other’s might respect his space. He didn’t want to have to deal with prying questions like he was now, but was respectful distance worth it when it meant people knowing about what had happened? He decided on a half truth. One that might earn him some distance, but at the same time wouldn’t betray the true nature of what had happened.

 

“Master Jinn is facing accusations of abuse from his padawan learner.” Obi-Wan poured his own tea, watching curiously as Quinlan blinked in surprise. For once it seemed the man didn’t know what to say. “Well, his ex-padawan learner. As I said. I no longer have a master at the moment.” He took a sip from his mug, savoring the warm feeling on his hands and the slightly bitter citrus taste in his mouth. He also savored having knocked Quinlan Vos off guard.

 

“Obi-Wan—“

 

“I’m not stupid enough to think you’re not going to tell anyone about this, Quin, and people are going to find out when Qui-Gon faces disciplinary action anyway.” He walked back over to the counter, a serious look settling on his face as he regarded the man closely. “But please ask people not to bother me about it when you do. I’ve already had to discuss it with the Council, and the last thing I want to do is face uncomfortable questions from every curious soul in the temple. It’s none of their business what Qui-Gon did, and I’m not going to tell them. Or you.” There was another silence as both men drank their tea, and Quinlan nodded at him.

 

“You know, you were listed as a knight in the records for this room.” Obi-Wan almost spit out his tea. “ _Knight Kenobi.”_ Obi-Wan sputtered briefly, searching for a response.

 

“They probably had to list me that way to input my information in the Knights’ Billet,” Obi-Wan finally ventured. He supposed that was a likely explanation considering how finicky automated systems could be when it came to unusual circumstances.

 

“I thought so too, but you were listed on the Knight Roster as well.” Quin was smiling again and Obi-Wan cursed Yoda quietly under his breath. The little green shit had to have had something to do with this.

 

“It’s a mistake.” Obi-Wan shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “As you can see, I am not a knight.” Obi-Wan gestured to his braid, raising an eyebrow as Quin regarded him skeptically.

 

“Then why’d you react like that?” Quin was smiling now, and he stood back and walked around the counter to lean next to Obi-Wan.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Obi-Wan brought his cup to his lips and found he’d already drained it. He set it on the counter dejectedly before looking back at Quin and raising his eyebrow.

 

“Sure you don’t, _Knight Kenobi_.” Quinlan actually punched his arm and Obi-Wan bristled in response.

 

“I thought you were calling me _Obi_ now.”

 

“I thought you didn’t like it when I called you that.” Quin had taken another step forward, directly into Obi-Wan’s personal space. He turned to the side to face the man, suddenly feeling a tad nervous.

 

“I’d rather Obi than _Knight Kenobi_ ,” he sighed, stepping back under the guise of leaning against the corner of the counter. Vos smirked at him.

 

“Well, now you know how I feel.” Vos started to take another step forward, and Obi-Wan grabbed his mug and walked quickly back over to the pot of tea. There was enough for another cup, but he had forgotten to stop it steeping and it was going to be stronger than he preferred it now. Regardless, he poured himself a new cup and removed the tea from the water.

 

“Would you like another cup, Quin?” He looked over and saw the man settled against the counter where he had been moments ago. “I’m afraid it’s been steeping this entire time. It may be a bit stronger than you prefer it.” The man shook his head, clearly amused. Obi-Wan wondered what could possibly be so funny.

 

“That’s alright, Obi.” Vos pushed himself up from the counter gracefully and stretched. The motion showed off the taught muscles in his arms, and Obi-Wan briefly wondered if that was why the man always wore his distinct style of sleeveless tunic. He’d heard him claim it was due to his acrobatic fighting style, but Obi-Wan employed a similar one and managed just fine in the more traditional tunics he had on now.

 

“See something you like?” Obi-Wan felt his cheeks color at the smug look on Quin’s face, and he brought the bitter liquid in his mug up to his face quickly before looking back, composed.

 

“Yes, I was just imagining you leaving.” The smile on Quin’s face lit up at the response.

 

“Always with the games, Kenobi.” Quin walked around the counter and towards the door. “Fortunately for you, I have a class to assist with this morning, otherwise you’d never get rid of me.” He winked. Actually winked at him. Obi-Wan blinked absently in response. “Thanks for the tea, _Obi_.” He opened the door and walked out, leaving Obi-Wan slightly confused and clutching a cup of too bitter ceylon. _What the fuck just happened?_

 

He poured the tea into his sink and stood for a moment, pushing his conversation with Quinlan out of his mind and instead anticipating his schedule for the day. He had almost nothing to do until the fifteenth hour. His schedule was torn apart. He’d been removed from his padawan classes at Yoda’s insistence—the man still wanted him to go through with his knighting ceremony—but he hadn’t been put into any new ones and he wasn’t mission approved. He refused to spend his day hiding and working himself up over the upcoming hearing, so he walked over to dial Bant’s quarters instead. 

 

“Kenobi.” It was Fisto who answered and he groaned internally. “I see you got my message. We were worried it might be uncomfortable for both of you to be present.”

 

“That won’t be a problem,” Obi-Wan assured, smiling as best he could as he sat down at his desk to continue the call. “I was actually calling to speak to Bant. Do you know if she has plans this morning?”

 

“Ah,” Fisto responded knowingly. “Yes, she’s helping with an initiate group meditation. She was rather excited about it, actually. It’s Anakin’s class, and she was quite eager meet him.” Obi-Wan felt his spirits drop. Bant and Anakin were both busy. Reeft had already been sent out to Ord Mantell on a mission he wasn’t allowed to discuss the details of. Considering the Black Sun presence on the planet Obi-Wan had assumed the mission would not be a short one or an easy one. His selection for the mission was probably an indicator of imminent knighting.

 

“Thank you for informing me, Master Fisto. I’ll see you at the fifteenth hour.” Obi-Wan went to switch the communicator off, but was interrupted before he could get the chance.

 

“You’re sure it’s okay, Obi-Wan?” He paused.

 

“As sure as I can be, Master Fisto.” He leaned back in his seat thoughtfully. “I have not seen Qui-Gon since my confession in the Hall of Knighthood so I suppose I cannot say for sure how it will effect me, but I do not foresee any problems.” He heard a sigh escape the older Nautolan’s mouth.

 

“Master Yoda is going to ask to complete your knighting ceremony, regardless of tonight’s outcome.” Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes. It seemed today was going to be problem after problem. “Are you going to refuse him again?”

 

“Yes.” He leaned forward tiredly. He simply could not understand Master Yoda’s insistence, no matter how hard he tried. Master Fisto laughed.

 

“The Council finally makes a unanimous decision on something, and the recipient is going to turn it down.” Obi-Wan scrunched his eyebrows up in tired confusion.

 

“The Council unanimously voted to knight me?”

 

“You’ve already passed your trials, Obi-Wan. That was more than enough information for most of us.” There was a slight pause. “Once Healer Tresalis’s report reached us, the only stragglers changed their tune. Technically we can’t vote on Master Jinn’s fate until he’s given an official testimony, but I think it’s fair to say we’ve already reached a consensus on that as well. We’re on your side, Obi-Wan.” 

 

“ _On my side,_ ” he repeated, almost spitting the words out. “If you recall correctly, I think you’ll remember that I never requested Master Jinn be ejected from the order.” There was silence on the other end of the line and Obi-Wan was unsure what exactly had made him so angry all of a sudden. “In fact, I believe you’ll also remember that the only thing I requested was _not_ to be knighted. Yet here I am, sitting in the quarters of a knight with my name _on the Knights’ Roster,_ and you tell me that you’ve voted unanimously to knight me?”

 

“Obi-Wan—“

 

“I’ll see you at the fifteenth hour, Master Fisto.” Obi-Wan turned off the transmission, not giving the opportunity for a response, and immediately felt a pang of guilt. Master Fisto had been nothing but helpful and understanding towards him. Grabbing his cloak and wrapping it around himself, he pushed himself out the door and into the hallway. He had no clue where he intended to go, but his pace only quickened as he passed the main area of the Knights’ Billet and heard talking and laughter. Had Quinlan told anybody yet?

 

Quinlan. What the fuck was this morning about anyway? What was he on about, barging into his quarters and encroaching on his personal space. Winking at him for no reason. Wearing his stupid self-indulgent tunic so that he could show off the fact that he’d done a few pushups. Everyone in the temple had done a few pushups. They were Jedi, for force sake—they didn’t walk around rubbing it in everyone’s faces. Obi-Wan had definition in his arms and they were currently covered appropriately by no less than three layers of cloth, because that’s what Jedi _wore._

 

“Something wrong, Obi-Wan?” He looked up from his annoyed muttering and saw Healer Tresalis, and he was about to ask her why she was bothering him when he realized that he had wandered into the Healing Halls. “Are you hurt?” His face went red.

 

“I think I’d like to take you up on that offer to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the comments on the last chapter made finals week less of a hellscape. I love you all, and even if you just commented some extra kudos at me I want to know that I smiled when I got the notification. Thanks for reading, ya'll.


	8. Snap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan meets with Healer Tresalis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? Two chapter updates back to back? That's right folks, my finals are over and I don't start my second job until Monday. That means I don't have shit to do and I'm probably going to push out an embarrassing number of chapters. Hope you enjoy.

Healer Tresalis preferred green tea—something about it being _soothing_ —so Obi-Wan was currently sipping on sencha and reflecting on the fact that all green tea tasted like hot water pretending to be tea. Healer Tresalis had asked him why he had chosen this moment to come see her so at least it gave him an excuse to mull over his answer as he drank. 

 

“I snapped at Master Fisto this morning.” He scrunched his eyebrows together as he attempted to come up with words to explain why he had been so upset. “He hadn’t even done anything to upset me, really. I just got angry with him. I was practically stewing the entire walk over here.” Healer Tresalis gave him a knowing nod.

 

“Well, I hate to bring up the obvious Obi-Wan, but perhaps you’re angry at Master Jinn?” Obi-Wan set his cup down and rubbed at his eyes instead. She had said before that she wouldn’t go easy on him, but did she have to bring it up two sentences into their conversation?

 

“His Council hearing is this afternoon. I’ve been asked to attend.” He saw Tresalis smile at him sadly as he leaned back in his chair. “Master Fisto told me that the Council has voted to make me a knight. They’re choosing not to question my training or readiness and to complete the ceremony instead.”

 

“You don’t seem pleased.” Obi-Wan looked at her, dumbfounded. Of course he wasn’t pleased. Why did everyone think he would be pleased?

 

“Do you honestly think it’s a good idea to make me a knight? Right now, at this moment?” He picked up his cup again. He enjoyed having something in his hands.

 

“What I think is irrelevant, Obi-Wan. I am not you, nor am I on the Council.” She tilted her head. “Why don’t you think you should be knighted?”

 

“I just snapped at Master Fisto for having the gall to ask me if I was okay, Tresalis.” He rolled his eyes. “Obviously I’m the perfect choice to send to a negotiations table.” His sarcasm actually earned him a laugh, and he couldn’t help but smile at just how ridiculous the entire situation was. “Honestly though? I allowed myself to be molested without even the slightest attempt at stopping it, Tresalis, and then I hid the truth until the last possible moment. My inaction has caused not only my own state of unreadiness, but has also caused the position of a respected Jedi Master to be called into question. I cannot be trusted to be a knight, and I cannot be trusted to take another master.”

 

“Master Jinn’s own actions are what has caused his position to be called into question, not yours,” Tresalis corrected. “Unless the hearing this afternoon is actually to address him training a padawan who would ‘allow himself to be molested’ and not him _molesting his padawan_.”

 

“The padawan has a responsibility to the master, just as the master has one to the padawan.” Obi-Wan fixed an accusing stare on the healer. He would not allow her to act as if he was blameless in this incident. 

 

“Did you blame Master Jinn for the time you were kidnapped on Bandomeer?” Obi-Wan stared at her, confused. That had happened thirteen years ago.

 

“Qui-Gon was not my master at the time, _and_ I had purposefully ignored his instructions. He had no responsibility towards me.”

 

“Master Jinn trained the man who kidnapped you. Is he therefore responsible? Is it his fault that Xanatos sold you into slavery? That he attempted to destroy the temple?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “What about his hostile takeover of Telos? Should we march up to Master Jinn right now and arrest him for those crimes?”

 

“Xanatos was influenced by his father. That was not Master Jinn’s fault,” he sniped. Qui-Gon had faced accusations of blame regarding Xanatos’ fall more than once—all undeserved.

 

“And yet you should shoulder blame for the crime that your master committed?” Obi-Wan glared. She knew very well that he could not answer honestly without contradicting himself. He took another sip of his sencha.

 

“I dislike this tea,” he said instead. It was passive aggressive as far as answers went, but he didn’t care.

 

“Would you like a different kind? Master Healer Che keeps nilgiri in her office. I’m sure I could swipe some.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Very well.” She took a sip of her own, savoring it. “Remind me again. Why are you to blame for Master Jinn’s actions?” Obi-Wan felt like banging his head onto the desk in front of him.

 

“I did nothing to discourage him from his… actions,” Obi-Wan struggled to elaborate. “What was he supposed to do, read my mind?”

 

“First of all, consent has to be given. That’s why we call it consensual sex. Even if you didn’t actively fight what was happening, it’s still rape if you didn’t consent.” Healer Tresalis sipped thoughtfully at her tea, mulling over her next words. “Second of all, yes.” Obi-Wan looked at her confusedly.

 

“Yes what?” 

 

“Yes, he was supposed to read your mind.” Obi-Wan balked at her. “You were a master-padawan team. You quite literally had a mental connection, and frankly I find it hard to believe that a fully matured training bond wouldn’t be more than capable of letting a Jedi Master know that he was assaulting the man on the other end of it.”

 

“I haven’t heard anything through our training bond since the incident. I suspect it’s dissolved,” he responded matter-of-factly. 

 

“Had it already dissolved the night that he raped you?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“You don’t know?”

 

“I don’t know.” He repeated. Healer Tresalis nodded, accepting his answer.

 

“Obi-Wan, if you had heard that what is currently happening with you was happening to one of your friends, how would you react? What would you say to Bant if she came to you and said that she had been assaulted by Master Fisto?”

 

“Master Fisto would never do that.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

 

“Humor me.” 

 

“I’d tell her to report it to the Council,” he shrugged. He’d probably also confront Master Fisto himself, but he didn’t want to give Healer Tresalis the satisfaction of knowing how angry he’d be.

 

“Would you believe it was her fault? That she should have defied him? Fought him off?” Tresalis was looking at him curiously.

 

“Of course not, Tresalis,” he assured. “You know I’d never.”

 

“How is this any different?” She cocked her head at him and he brought the heels of his hands up to rub tiredly at his eyes. He didn’t know what to tell her. It just _was_.

 

“Bant is an exceptional padawan,” he said instead. “She doesn’t deserve something like that.” He looked up at Tresalis , and for a moment she looked profoundly sad. Her professionalism quickly returned.

 

“Do you think you deserved what happened to you, Obi-Wan?” He looked back up at her, mirroring her sadness.

 

“No,” he answered, but he wasn’t quite sure he believed himself. A glance at Tresalis was all it took to know she didn’t believe him either.“What good is any of this supposed to do anyway?”

 

“Obi-Wan, you’re not going to believe that you’re blameless or that you didn’t deserve this just because I tell you so.” She set her tea on the table and adopted a more serious look. He shifted under it. “That’s something you’re going to need to work towards. Now, answer me honestly. If you push aside your emotions and look at your beliefs regarding your situation objectively, do some of those beliefs seem contradictory?” Obi-Wan nodded.

 

“Yes, but—“

 

“Trauma doesn’t disappear in a day, Obi-Wan. These thoughts and contradictions are a natural response. By framing the abuse as if it was your fault or you deserved it, you’re protecting yourself from the idea that someone you trusted would want to hurt you, or that you were unable to stop it from happening.”

 

“I _could_ have stopped it from happening,” he interrupted, annoyed.

 

“If you could have, you would have.” Healer Tresalis reached back and took her hair down from her bun, handing the hair tie to Obi-Wan. He took it, confused. “Put that around your wrist.” He did, still looking at her with a sense of bewilderment. “You’ve stated that some of your thoughts are contradictory. You can believe whatever you want and today isn’t about trying to force you to believe something you don’t, but I want you to go ahead and remind me which contradictory thoughts you’re having, including any that we haven’t discussed.” Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at her, unconvinced. She gestured amiably for him to go ahead and he let out a defeated sigh.

 

“It’s my fault for not stopping Master Qui-Gon, but if I heard the same story from a friend I would not blame them for it.” Master Tresalis nodded silently, and he continued more confidently when he realized she wasn’t going to correct him for placing blame on himself. “Master Jinn wouldn’t have hurt me if I had been a better padawan—which makes his actions my fault—but I do not blame him for Xanatos' falling or any of his subsequent crimes.” He wracked his brain for more contradictions, and found them coming much quicker as he realized he could say them without judgement or having to choose between one belief or the other. “I am not worthy of being knighted, but I have passed the trials and the council has voted unanimously in favor of my knighthood.”

 

“Very good, Obi-Wan,” Tresalis nodded, a pleased smile on her face. “Those are the three that I noticed. Are there any that we didn’t discuss?” Obi-Wan thought about the things that had bothered him recently and looked up hesitantly. Healer Tresalis nodded encouragingly.

 

“What Master Jinn did to me has not changed how I experience sexuality or attraction.” Obi-Wan looked over to where the wall and the floor met, not meeting Healer Tresalis’s eyes. “But I also think about sex more often and in different ways.” It was true. Obi-Wan had never put much thought into the idea of sex before. He had passing attractions, but never anything he felt like actively pursuing. Now he found the idea of sex far less theoretical and much more literal. It was as if he had realized that he was actually capable of sleeping with another person. He did not like the idea that one encounter could change his entire view on the topic, and tried his best to shut down any thoughts that drifted in that direction. He looked back up to see an understanding smile on Tresalis ’s face, and she gestured for him to raise his arm. When he did, she reached out and snapped the hair elastic on his wrist. He shot her an annoyed glance at the unpleasant feeling.

 

“Anytime you have a contradictory thought, I want you to do that.” She smiled at him, releasing his arm and letting it drop back to his side. “You don’t have to change what you’re thinking. You don’t have to analyze it. Just snap the band, acknowledge that it’s contradictory, and continue your day. Can you do that?” Obi-Wan looked down at his wrist and sighed before looking back up and nodding.

 

“Yes. I think I can manage that.”

 

“Would you be willing to meet with me regularly, Obi-Wan? I’m free at this time every Primeday.” Obi-Wan nodded. He had already expected her to ask, and as it was his schedule was annoyingly free. At least this would give him a weekly morning commitment. 

 

“What time did I show up here?” he asked. “I wasn’t exactly paying attention, and it wouldn’t do to be late.” He smiled unconvincingly.

 

“You showed up at around halfway through the eighth hour.” She grabbed an appointment book from her desk and began scribbling into it. “Although if we could meet promptly at eight, that would be preferable for me.” 

 

“I hope i didn’t keep you.” Obi-Wan felt concern wash over his face. He hadn’t thought about any other obligations the healer might have had.

 

“No worries Obi-Wan. You have interrupted nothing.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Will the eighth hour of every Primeday be possible for you?”

 

“Yes. I have no conflicts,” he assured.

 

“Good, because I’ve already pencilled you in.” Healer Tresalis looked up at him, a soft smile on her face. “Remember your homework,” she said, standing to walk with him out of her office and gesturing to the band on his wrist. “I have a feeling you’ll need it this afternoon.”

 

“I will follow your instructions to the letter, Healer Tresalis,” he assured, smiling at her. She smiled back at him as he made to leave the halls before she called him once more. “Obi-Wan,” she said. He turned around briefly.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Come back in if you have a problem. Appointment or no.” He smiled at her and nodded, turning back and walking from the halls into the rest of the temple. He had a long day ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but an important one. The next chapter is the hearing and it's too long to tag on to the end of this one, so I'm afraid it's just a bit of a short standalone.


	9. The Hearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter we've all been waiting for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot damn you guys did I make a mistake. This entire time I'd stolen the name Terza from the reentry series, when I was actually thinking of Healer Tresalis. At first I was going to just keep Terza in to keep from confusing anyone, but then I thought, "What would George Lucas do?" and naturally I retconned the whole thing. Terza is now Tresalis, as was originally intended, and I am willing to buy any comments on previous chapters mentioning the name Terza (I'm talking to you, pride_of_storm and magdalyna) so that I can destroy them and replace them with a version including Tresalis instead. Name your price.

It took Obi-Wan a few seconds to decide where in the Council Chamber he should stand. Master Jinn was already settled in the center of the room, and he automatically began walking towards his customary place to the left and back one step before remembering that the man was no longer his master. He shifted awkwardly before standing directly to Qui-Gon’s left, a few paces away. Master Windu gave him an understanding nod, and he relaxed a bit. He wasn’t on trial here. They probably didn’t care where exactly he stood.”

 

“The Council will be voting today to decide the fate of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, after recent allegations of sexual abuse towards Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Mace launched directly into the hearing, and Obi-Wan was glad that this wasn’t going to be drawn out. “We have already observed holo-recorded testimony from Padawan Kenobi, and seen physical evidence provided by Healer Tresalis. Master Jinn refused the opportunity to give recorded testimony. Today the Council will hear any relevant remarks from Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi, ask any relevant questions, and vote on a final decision.” Master Windu looked down at the two men standing in the center of the room. “Do either of you have anything to say before we begin?”

 

Silence.

 

“I’m going to read a summary of Padawan Kenobi’s testimony, after which point he will have the chance to elaborate on it and Master Jinn will have a chance to refute it.” Master Fisto was speaking now. “Are there any questions?”

 

Silence.

 

“Padawan Kenobi stated that immediately after presenting Anakin Skywalker to the Council three weeks ago, he and Master Jinn returned to their shared quarters. Once they were alone, Master Jinn undressed him, kissed him, held him down on his bed, penetrated him anally with his fingers and had painful anal sex with him, and then left. Padawan Kenobi stated that he did not speak for the entirety of the rape, but did state that he was crying for at least a portion of it. Medical evidence provided by Healer Tresalis showed anal tearing which supported his story, although no DNA evidence was found.” Master Fisto looked down at him, his face gaining a touch of softness. “Padawan Kenobi, is there anything you would like to add?” Obi-Wan brought his hands together inside of the sleeves of his cloak and snapped the band around his wrist. He deserved what had happened.

 

“No, Master Fisto. I believe that sums it up.” He received a nod from the man before he turned to regard Qui-Gon, his face losing the softness it had held moments prior. 

 

“Master Jinn, we will now hear your recollection of the events.” Qui-Gon bowed deeply to the the Council, his expression neutral, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but turn slightly to look at him. His master continued looking resolutely forward and he felt a pang of rejection by the fact that Qui-Gon evidently wouldn’t even look at him.

 

“Masters,” he began, his words carefully even. Obi-Wan had only ever heard him speak this way during negotiations, and it meant that he had thought carefully about what he was going to say—maybe even rehearsed it. “Three weeks ago, after returning from Tatooine, I made a grave error for which I will no doubt now face punishment. I had been upset by the hesitancy of the Council to train young Skywalker, I felt helpless in the face of Naboo’s situation regarding Senate assistance, and my judgement had been publicly called into question by my padawan—rightfully so.” Qui-Gon turned his head minutely towards Obi-Wan. He looked apologetic.

 

“It was not my place to question your judgement, master,” Obi-Wan looked at the man, incredulously. No matter where the fault lay for what had happened afterwards, he had been out of line in that Council meeting. Qui-Gon raised his hand gently, silencing him.

 

“After we returned to our quarters, I did not allow him to speak—although I knew he meant to apologize for speaking against me. Instead, I took out my own feelings of powerlessness regarding Naboo, the Trade Federation, Skywalker, the Council, and his own defiance of me out on him. I forced myself upon him sexually, exactly as he described in his testimony. When he asked me what he had done wrong after I had finished I did not answer, because I had no answer.” Qui-Gon looked resolutely forward as Obi-Wan balked at him. He could see similar expressions around the room as the Council heard his confession.

 

“You do not deny raping your padawan,” Master Windu stated. Obi-Wan could see surprise there. Perhaps he had expected Master Jinn to burst into the room and claim that it was all a huge misunderstanding, or that Obi-Wan had been lying because he didn’t want Anakin trained. Perhaps he had just expected him to argue needlessly with the Council as he did at many other meetings. No doubt, he did not expect acquiescence and a full confession.

 

“I do not.”

 

“You do not deny that it was clear that your actions were unwanted? That Padawan Kenobi wanted you to stop?” Master Billaba was speaking now, incredulous. She and Master Jinn had always been close, and he saw Qui-Gon give her a small, terse smile.

 

“Master Billaba, it was very clear to me that my padawan did not enjoy what was happening.” He looked down at the floor, a posture that seemed out of place on the large, defiant man that Obi-Wan knew so well. “Had he wanted me to continue, I likely would have stopped.” That caused murmurs around the room. There had been no misunderstanding, only pure, purposeful abuse of power. For the first time since the assault Obi-Wan was truly angry at Qui-Gon. He looked around the room and saw his expression mirrored in several faces, while others held a profound sadness or a look of shocked disbelief. The only neutral expression belonged to Master Yoda.

 

“If there is nothing further that either of you wish to say, you are temporarily dismissed as the Council discusses your case, and votes on the outcome.”

 

“Someone should wait with them,” Master Fisto interjected. “You can’t honestly think it’s a good idea to send them into a room alone together.”

 

“There is a padawan attendant at the door,” Master Windu answered, although he looked skeptical of his own words. “Unless anyone here _doesn’t_ want to be present for the vote.” He looked around the room and saw no volunteers to go with them.

 

“I don’t think either of us is stupid enough to try something with the entire Jedi Council in shouting distance.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and he looked up appreciatively at Master Fisto when the man snickered. “I would also appreciate the opportunity to speak with Master Jinn, believe it or not.” The Council looked at him curiously, and he could almost feel the skeptical curiosity radiating off of the room. 

 

“Are there any objections?” Master Windu looked around the room, waiting for someone to speak up. Nobody did. “Very well,” Windu sighed, “Padawan Kenobi, Master Jinn, please wait outside of the Council Chamber. We will summon you when we have made a decision.” 

 

With that, Obi-Wan bowed briefly, turned on his heel, and began walking swiftly towards the exit. He paused outside of the doorway, regarding the padawan stationed at the door. She was young—maybe fourteen or fifteen—and she was Zabrakian. She was also about to be ground zero of some very juicy temple gossip, because there was no way in hell that Obi-Wan wasn’t going to take this opportunity to confront his master. It could very well be his only chance.

 

“You knew.” Obi-Wan turned around, glaring at Qui-Gon. “You knew I didn’t want to.”

 

“I knew,” Qui-Gon confirmed. The simple answer angered Obi-Wan further.

 

“When you’re upset, you perform a litany. You don’t _rape your padawan_.” Obi-Wan shook his head incredulously when Qui-Gon remained silent. The padawan at the door looked unsure what to do. She had no doubt been ordered not to leave the room. “For force sake, I had been about to _apologize_ to you.”

 

“I am sorry, Obi-Wan, but I cannot undo my actions.” Obi-Wan glared at him. How was he so calm?

 

“Did it feel good, Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan threw his arms out in a questioning manner. “Did it make you feel better? Did it make you feel _powerful_?” Qui-Gon opened his mouth to respond, but Obi-Wan cut him off. “Perhaps you’d like to do it again? It would really get rid of all those pesky feelings about the Council voting on what will happen to you. Maybe you’d like to take me in the Chamber. Show all of them who’s in charge. Why stop there? Let’s go to the Senate floor. Surely they’ll vote to dissolve the blockade around Naboo once they see how _in control_ you are.”

 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon was looking at him apologetically.

 

“You do realize that makes it worse, don’t you?” Obi-Wan gave him a pained look. Twelve years together and he still didn’t understand. “None of this is about me. You think _you_ had no control over your situation? I’d been on the same mission as you, Qui-Gon. Watched the same Senate refuse to help. Watched you bring the boy back and insist he be trained, casting me aside under the guise of my readiness to face the trials when really you just couldn’t be bothered with me anymore. You never wanted me in the first place—had to be bullied into it by Yoda.” Qui-Gon finally began to look upset, sadness and regret washing over his features. Good. “And to add insult to injury, _you._ My Master. My guide. My teacher. The man who I had served and learned from for twelve _years_ took that opportunity to hold me down and take what was left of my autonomy by _force._ ”

 

“Obi-Wan—“

 

“And what, the fact that it was never about me is supposed to make me feel _better?_ ”

 

“No, but it’s the truth and I owe you that,” Qui-Gon answered, pained. For a moment Obi-Wan almost felt sorry for him. He supposed twelve years of blind adoration could make you feel a lot of things.

 

“You don’t owe me anything, Qui-Gon. That’s not how the galaxy works.” Obi-Wan turned and found a chair to settle in. He glanced once more at the padawan stationed at the door and had the sudden urge to laugh at her expression. The poor girl was horrified.

 

“What is your name, padawan?” Obi-Wan regarded the girl and he saw Qui-Gon turn to her in surprise. Perhaps he had forgotten she was there.

 

“Maris Brood,” she replied, unsure.

 

“I do not envy your position, Maris,” he said, giving her a strained smile. “I apologize for acting so brashly in front of you, but I saw this as what may possibly be my only opportunity to confront Master Jinn.”

 

“I do not envy your position either, Kenobi,” she answered, returning his smile hesitantly. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at her answer.

 

“I’ll leave it up to you whether or not you tell anyone about this. I know I would likely be unable to keep it a secret were I in your position, and it would be unfair of me to ask you to do so. I simply request that if you _do_ tell anyone, you also ask them not to bother me with it. I do not want to be faced with constant questioning, nor do I want blind condolences or any other well intentioned remarks.” The girl spared a short glance up at Master Jinn, and upon seeing that he was very purposefully not looking at either of them she turned back and nodded.

 

“Master Shaak Ti says I am to practice self control.” She looked up at Obi-Wan and tilted her head, speaking slowly. “Perhaps I can begin by avoiding the temptation to speak about this.” Obi-Wan felt relief wash over him and he saw the girl smile at his response.

 

“Thank you, Maris,” he said, looking to the side as the doors opened and Master Fisto appeared. He took a deep breath, walking his way back to the center of the chamber and standing to Master Jinn’s left. He stood the traditional distance away this time, rather than keeping several paces between them.

 

“Qui-Gon Jinn.” Master Windu spoke the moment they had settled into place. “The Council has voted to expel you from the Jedi Order. Give your saber to Master Yoda.” Master Jinn walked calmly over, and Obi-Wan felt a pang of guilt and sadness as he saw the pained expression on the Grand Master’s face. Annoyed, he brought his hands together under his cloak and snapped the band around his wrist again. He could practically hear Healer Tresalis asking him if Qui-Gon was to blame for the pain Xanatos had caused by leaving the order. “Master Billaba will now escort you to collect your belongings and leave the temple.”

 

Obi-Wan watched with blind fascination as Qui-Gon was escorted from the room. Jinn had been an esteemed Jedi Master. It almost seemed surreal.

 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Mace Windu addressed him directly now. “The Council has near-unanimously voted to proceed with your knighting.” Obi-Wan gave an amused glance up towards Master Fisto. _Near_ unanimous. “Do you accept?” He snapped the band around his wrist once more, and found himself much more conflicted than he’d thought he would be. He did not deserve to be a knight, but he trusted the judgement of the Council. He had not been effected by what Master Jinn had done to him, but he had just exploded at the man outside of the Council Chamber and his braid felt like dead weight hanging from his scalp. He sighed, and cursed Healer Tresalis under his breath. He still believed every single statement, but now that he had to think about all of them the question seemed much less straightforward.

 

“If the Council agrees not to clear me as mission ready without the approval of Healer Tresalis, I will accept.” He let himself smile self-indulgently when he saw Master Fisto look exasperatedly up at the ceiling. Master Windu simply looked relieved. 

 

“The ceremony will be held tomorrow at dawn,” he responded, turning to address the rest of the Council members.

 

“I know it is an unconventional request, Master Windu, but is there any chance we can hold it immediately?” He received a confused look in response. “I’ve already performed my trials, the ritual of meditation in the Tranquility Spire, and my knighting itself was only a swipe of a blade from completion,” Obi-Wan elaborated. “I will not be skipping any part of the ceremony if we simply sever my braid now.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I would like to complete the severing of the braid immediately so that I might present it to Qui-Gon before he is ejected from the temple.” There was a murmer throughout the chamber, and Obi-Wan stood still as he allowed his words to sink in.

 

“Master Jinn does not deserve your braid.” It was Master Shaak Ti who spoke up, but there was agreement plastered to the faces of many of the masters surrounding her.

 

“What becomes of the braid is the choice of the knight it is severed from.” Obi-Wan kept his voice as steady as he could. “Master Jinn was my mentor for twelve years of apprenticeship. Despite the circumstances of our parting, he has still held the greatest influence over my training. I will present my braid to him.” 

 

“You can’t be serious.” Master Unduli looked around the room, shocked.

 

“Kenobi’s decision, it is.” Master Yoda raised his hand slowly, and the room silenced. “If trust his judgement as a knight we do, then trust his decision as a padawan we must.” He turned his gaze towards Obi-Wan appraisingly. “Approach me you will, Padawan Kenobi. Knighted you will be.” Obi-Wan walked over as gracefully as he could manage, aware of the terse mixture of feelings within the room. He kneeled respectfully.

 

"By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force.” It was strange to hear Master Yoda speaking in regular syntax—following a script. “I dub thee Jedi, Knight of the Republic.” A blade was activated and a weight was separated from his scalp. There was a short silence as the braid was placed delicately into his hand. “Discussed enough for today, we have.” Yoda put his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder with a sad, introspective look on his face. “Over, this meeting is.” There was movement around him as some of the Council members stood to take their leave, and Obi-Wan stood with them after Yoda removed his hand. He hurried towards the door, finding the rapidly fleeing Kit Fisto.

 

“Master Fisto,” he addressed the man hastily.

 

“I thought you didn’t want to be knighted, Obi-Wan.” The man turned and looked at him, confused. “I don’t know what you expect from me if you’re not going to tell me the truth.”

 

“I didn’t want to be knighted,” he assured him, although it crossed his mind that it probably wasn’t much as far as assurances go. He quickly brought his hand up to snap at the band again. “But I trust the Council, and we both know that my remaining a padawan would have been useless.” He gave Master Fisto a pleading look. He hadn’t meant to upset him. “I was in limbo. Shoved into the life of a knight while refusing to accept it. I could not move forward that way.” Master Fisto sighed.

 

“You’re giving your braid to _Jinn_.”

 

“ _Yes._ ” Obi-Wan glared at him and led them both down the hallway and into a lift towards the main entrance of the temple, where he intended to await his Master. Qui-Gon’s actions had made him the man he was today. The man who had been knighted. It didn’t matter whether his actions were all good or not, they had still shaped him.

 

“Why not give it to Yoda?” 

 

“Master Fisto, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” Obi-Wan scowled at him. “But this is my decision, and I’m quite tired of the way decisions are being taken out of my hands nowadays.” Master Fisto rubbed his eyes and sighed, leaning against the back of the lift.

 

“I’m not trying to take your decision away, Obi-Wan.”

 

“I know you’re not trying to, but it’s what you’re doing.” He walked forward out of the lift as the doors opened into the main entryway. This is where Qui-Gon would be expelled. “I know you mean well, Master Fisto. I appreciate it, I really do, but I need you to understand.” He turned a tired gaze onto the master before him. “I’m not always going to make the right decision. I’m not even always going to make a decision that makes _sense_. I’m not angry at you. This isn’t about you. I’m angry at Qui-Gon and at myself, and if you’re going to intervene you’re going to see that anger.” There was silence as they both leaned against the wall, and Obi-Wan did the only thing he could think of. He took a step to the side so that his arm touched Fisto’s. A sign of trust and affection. “I’m not angry at you, Master Fisto.” He felt the arm next to him move to place itself protectively around his shoulders. It was a gesture Qui-Gon might have done in the younger days of his apprenticeship and he welcomed it openly. The arm tightened as Qui-Gon and Billaba appeared, both looking over confusedly. Obi-Wan gave Fisto a sad smile before slipping away from him.

 

“Master Jinn.” Obi-Wan remained as confident as he could.

 

“I am no longer a Jedi Master, Obi-Wan.” He looked sad. Lost.

 

“Master Jinn. Give me your hand.” Qui-Gon looked confused, but reached his hand out nonetheless. Obi-Wan gripped it with both of his own, placing his braid carefully in the older man’s grasp and looking up at him meaningfully. Qui-Gon looked like he might cry, and Obi-Wan mourned for the chapter of his life that was ending before his eyes. Hesitantly, he moved himself forward and drew Qui-Gon into a delicate hug. He could feel the man’s reluctance and squeezed assuringly, prompting a hand to wrap falteringly around his back and another to place itself softly on his head. He could feel breaths turn into shudders as Qui-Gon began to cry, and he pulled back gently. “I will miss you, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

 

“I will miss you as well, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” A hand ran through his hair again, faltering on the space where his braid used to belong. Obi-Wan shuddered and the hand dropped “You will make a better knight than I ever was, and a better master as well when the day comes.” Qui-Gon straightened, turning to Master Billaba as she beckoned him towards the doorway. This moment could not be put off forever, and it would be cowardly of him to look away. He wondered what Qui-Gon would do now that he was no longer a Jedi. The Order had been his life. 

 

Qui-Gon walked slowly, flanked by the beautiful colonnades of the temple, but he was gone in an instant. It felt almost impossible that his leaving could be so fleeting when he had been there for so much of his life. It had never occurred to him that Master Jinn would be _gone_. Passed away, maybe—waiting for him in the force. But gone? Not even in his nightmares. Obi-Wan turned and nodded reassuringly at Master Fisto before walking away, ambling vaguely towards the direction of his quarters and dreaming of a cup of ceylon tea and a thoroughly uninterrupted meditation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was extra cathartic to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed putting it onto paper.
> 
> Thanks so much for your support you guys!


	10. Blaster Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan helps Anakin with his lightsaber training and has an interesting sparring session with Quinlan Vos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter update for the weekend. Hope ya'll enjoyed my little bout of free time, but now it's back to the old grind!

The story about the Trade Federation treaty that Queen Amidala had signed was so far down the news listing that Obi-Wan almost missed it. For a moment he simply stared at it. Padme had been insistently against the treaty to an almost comical degree, and he found it highly unlikely that she had simply packed up back to Naboo to conspire with Nute Gunray. He could hardly go after her though, considering he was not mission cleared by his own request. Instead he shrugged on his robe and began towards Master Windu’s quarters. Someone else would have to be sent in his stead.

 

Of course, Master Windu didn’t seem nearly as bothered with the whole affair as Obi-Wan, but eventually upon seeing Obi-Wan’s insistence he had agreed to send a master-padawan team to check on the Queen as political emissaries. They would discuss what the Trade Federation support would mean for the Republic’s dealings with Naboo, ensure discreetly that Queen Amidala was not under duress, and visit Otoh Gunga with an official invitation to join the Republic before leaving. 

 

Pleased with the fact that the situation was no longer being ignored, and bothered by the fact that there was nothing he could do to help more directly, he had tracked Anakin down in the creche. The boy was rather distant and extremely distracted as they did their meditation, but Obi-Wan couldn’t blame him considering the same feelings rolling off of himself in waves. It had been three days since Qui-Gon had been ejected from the temple and his waking thoughts were consumed with what would become of the man now that his life had been torn from him. He had no idea what he would do were he in that position. He was a Jedi, and the idea of living a life apart from that felt impossible.

 

He was pulled from his reverie as Anakin moved forward indiscreetly so that his knees brushed against Obi-Wan’s own where they knelt. Wide eyes were looking up at him, and Obi-Wan knew before the boy had spoken that he had heard the reason for Qui-Gon’s leaving. The Council had released an official story at Obi-Wan’s suggestion. The details were redacted so that only Council members could access them, but anyone who cared to look up Master Jinn’s record of expulsion could see the reason listed—physical abuse of his padawan learner.

 

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin sounded hesitant. It was a tone of voice he didn’t hear from him often.

 

“Yes, Anakin?” Obi-Wan smiled tersely. He was still roiling from his attempts at accepting the week’s events.

 

“How am I supposed to meditate away something that I don’t understand?” Anakin looked very confused and very young, and Obi-Wan wanted to grab the boy, march through the temple until he found Master Yoda or someone else sufficiently wise, and ask them the exact same question. A few weeks ago he would have asked Qui-Gon.

 

“What is it that you don’t understand, Anakin?” The boy shifted awkwardly before looking back up.

 

“Master Qui-Gon is the reason I’m here.” He turned his head down again, and Obi-Wan could feel a wave of shame wash over him. “He’s one of the only people who cared about me, but you’re one of the only people who cared about me too and he hurt you.” Anakin looked up at him. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about him.”

 

“You can’t force yourself to feel a certain way about someone.” Obi-Wan assured, placing a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I won’t be upset at you for having positive feelings towards Qui-Gon, if that’s worrying you. I have them as well. He was my mentor for longer than you’ve been alive.” Anakin didn’t look convinced, and Obi-Wan decided to try a different approach. “Master Qui-Gon freed you from slavery, Anakin. No amount of bad he does will remove that good, and that action will always be a pivotal point in your life. It is okay to be grateful for that action while condemning another. Good and bad can both exist in the same person.”

 

“It feels like if I’m grateful to him, I’m betraying you.” Anakin shook his head and looked up at Obi-Wan pleadingly.

 

“Anakin, you will never be able to release your feelings if you refuse to accept them. Your gratefulness to Master Jinn is natural. It is also natural of you to feel upset with him for hurting me. Your feelings are not a betrayal, and I would be remiss if I allowed you to bottle these things up due to my own resentment. Qui-Gon Jinn has brought much good into this world and we cannot forget that.” Anakin sighed and moved from his kneeling position to sit resignedly. “I know it is difficult.”

 

“It’s _impossible_.” He shook his head. “I’ve been trying for three days.”

 

“I’ve been working on the same task for about three weeks, Ani, and I’m much more experienced at this than you are. Master Jinn trained me for twelve years. I have seen him do much good, and I have also seen him falter horribly and face the consequences. Good people are capable of doing bad things, Anakin, and we can recognize that.”

 

“Well if he’s so _good_ then why did they kick him out?” Anakin lay down on the rock, huffing. “Why not let him stay in the order and keep doing good?”

 

“His actions hurt the Order, Anakin. His betrayal was not just to me, but to the entirety of the master-padawan institution.” Obi-Wan sat down as comfortably as he could. It seemed they were done meditating. “There must be trust within our ranks. How would you feel about taking a master if you knew that we allowed people who had hurt their padawan to remain in the order?” Anakin huffed again, rubbing his eyes, and didn’t answer. “Would you be able to trust the Council if they forced me to continue working with the man who abused me, Anakin?” This time, Anakin looked curious as he looked up at him.

 

“Would you have?”

 

“Would I have what, Anakin?”

 

“Kept working with him. If the Council had told you to.” Obi-Wan paused for a moment, surprised by the question. He supposed that yes, he probably would have. He had kept quiet about what had happened for two weeks and it hadn’t been all that bad, but once he’d spoken up it was as if his floodgates had fractured and he could no longer hold it together. Once he’d admitted it to others, he could no longer hide it from himself.

 

“Maybe,” Obi-Wan answered quietly, shuddering. “No, I would no longer have been able to trust him as I once did. It would be dangerous for both of us, and for anyone who’s safety relied on our success.” There was a short silence as both of them thought on what he said.

 

“Obi-Wan?”

 

“Yes, Anakin?”

 

“Will you teach me how to use a lightsaber?” 

 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help laughing at the sudden change in subject. Perhaps he’d let himself get too caught up in the philosophy of it all, if he’d managed to forget that Anakin was still a boisterous nine year old. They’d already been meditating for a considerable amount of time, and the boy wasn’t the only one itching to move around.

 

“I’m serious, Obi-Wan. All the other kids keep kicking my butt in practice.”

 

“You’re learning Form I, I assume.” Anakin nodded.

 

“Yeah, but the other kids are learning different forms. Form V looks way cooler.”

 

“They all had to learn the first form before they could move on,” Obi-Wan assured him. “If you want to learn the fifth form, you must master not only the first, but the second and third as well.” Anakin gave him a disbelieving look as they removed themselves from their rock and headed towards the training salles. Obi-Wan was practically dragged along by the hand as Anakin led the way, but Obi-Wan knew there would be plenty of time to practice patience in the upcoming lesson;

 

“I thought Form I was the base form.” Anakin tilted his head when they arrived. "Why would I need to learn two others before learning the fourth?"

 

“Form V began as a variant of the Soresu, but it steals many of it’s aggressive tactics from the second. Knowing both of those forms, at least basically, will be invaluable to you if you are serious about the fifth.” Anakin picked up a training saber while Obi-Wan turned his own down to it’s lowest setting. He adopted a first form stance himself, not wanting to put Anakin up against one of the more advanced forms. Master Fisto may be able to hold his own but most people found the first form lacking in lightsaber battles. It was meant for other forms of combat.

 

He found that Anakin was progressing nicely. _Surprisingly_ nicely. He had learned far more in the short weeks he’d been in the temple than Obi-Wan had expected, although he was still very clearly a beginner. His form was good, but he had not yet learned all of the form’s applications and he tended to rush into things. Form I required patience and connection within the force, and it was very early in their sparring that Obi-Wan remembered which exercise had helped him to learn the same lesson.

 

Pausing the fight, Obi-Wan turned his own lightsaber off but motioned for Anakin to keep his own alight. He walked over to the bench and removed his outer tunic, folding it and placing his unlit saber upon it. Grabbing the sash that held his outer tunic closed, he walked behind Anakin and tied it over the boy’s eyes. A makeshift blindfold. Silently, he left Anakin to stand, wary with his blade in the air, and he walked back to the weapons rack and selected a blaster which he turned down to the lowest setting. He saw a couple pairs of Jedi pause their training, Quinlan Vos and Bultar Swan among them, as they turned to watch on in amusement. There likely wasn’t a single Jedi who hadn’t faced hilarious failure upon first attempting this exercise. Obi-Wan himself had gotten an eyebrow singed off.

 

Anakin, to his credit, looked very focused. No doubt on edge from the prolonged lack of activity, he was standing with his face scrunched up in concentration and his blade vertical in front of him. Without warning, Obi-Wan raised the blaster and fired at Anakin’s shoulder, hitting it with no attempt at defense and causing the boy to jump in discomfort and surprise.

 

“Put your trust in the force Anakin. Allow it to tell you where to put your blade.” He fired at the thigh this time, keeping his shots to areas that would be less painful. He remembered how uncomfortable this could be and Anakin was already looking a bit put-off. He allowed Anakin time to breath and attempt to center himself. Once his face was calmed, Obi-Wan aimed at his other thigh. The bolt hit, but Anakin had reacted this time.

 

“Ow! Can’t you turn the power setting down?”

 

“It’s on the lowest setting already, Anakin,” Obi-Wan chuckled. A few of those watching followed suit as Anakin sighed and began collecting himself again. “Stop thinking of this as a fight, or as trying to best me. Think of this as a meditation. A time to listen to the force and allow it to guide you.” Anakin nodded, dropping his saber from it’s rough stance and loosening his muscles. Obi-Wan knew, after a moment, that the child would succeed. 

 

He aimed for the gut and was rewarded as Anakin drew up his blade, blocking it. He jumped at his own action, as if surprised his hand had moved at all, and the action was so filled with youth and innocence that it made Obi-Wan smile all on it's own. The next bolt, however, hit the boy in the cheek. He had allowed himself to let his guard down in his success and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but take the opportunity to humble him. They continued to practice with Obi-Wan moving silently around the boy, hitting him more than once in the back and being rewarded once as the boy turned to deflect the bolt almost directly back at him. The entire salle was in high spirits as stray blaster fire added a new element to their sparring, and the boisterous energy of the nine year old among them seemed to seep throughout the room. Anakin tired quickly though, unused to having to keep such a constant hold on the force. Obi-Wan dismissed him back to the creche, trusting him to make his way back alone before moving to the bench to retrieve his tunic.

 

“I think you look better without it.” Quinlan Vos had materialized next to him, smiling shrewdly. Obi-Wan regarded his undershirt. A simple cream, tightly fit. He much preferred the simple elegance of his tunics.

 

“That’s because you have no taste, Vos.” He gestured to Quinlan’s workout garb and wondered what exactly the man had against sleeves.

 

“Quin.” There was something in the man’s voice that made him feel suddenly self-conscious.

 

“That’s because you have no taste, _Quin_.” He pulled his tunic back on and sashed it, turning to the side to continue the conversation.

 

“As great as that display was.” Quinlan grinned at him. “I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t get much of a workout of your own. Need a sparring partner?”

 

“I thought you were working with Bultar.” Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the woman across the room as she drank water and chatted with another knight, only to see her give her friend a pat on the shoulder and walk from the room.

 

“We finished,” Quinlan began walking over to the sparring area and Obi-Wan followed, not having been given a proper chance to turn the man down politely. He could do to work some energy out anyway. Before he had so much as ignited his lightsaber he found himself facing an aggressive advancement. 

 

Obi-Wan remained on the defense—waiting for a chance to strike—and quickly found himself being pushed back. Quin was a flurry of movement, and an offensive one at that. Obi-Wan relied on speed himself, but employed the most defensive of all the forms. His general strategy was to maneuver himself out of the way of strikes by use of his size and speed, wearing down and tiring the enemy, and while this fight was no exception he found himself putting much more effort into fending off blows than he would have liked.

 

Feeling flustered by the quick pace, Obi-Wan remembered his words to Anakin and began to tune himself more fully into the force, slipping partially into Form I. It was unconventional, but allowed him to preserve his strength as the flurry refused to relent. Sweat was gathering on his forehead, and he began to feel an urgency within him as he was slowly backed towards the nearest wall. Knowing he needed to change the pace or be cornered, he advanced at Quin and quickly found a flaw in his movement exploited as his arm was thrown down and he was pushed against the wall with a blade to his neck. Breathing heavily, he tapped his hand against the wall, prompting Quin to accept his victory and knitting his eyebrows when it took him just a moment too long to release him. 

 

“You even accept defeat gracefully, Obi.” Quin’s breathing was ragged as well, and Obi-Wan allowed himself some internal pride at the fact that he had worn his opponent out despite his loss.

 

“I’ve had a lifetime of practice.” Obi-Wan smiled back. Vos was standing very close to him, and he was glad that he was already red from exertion as otherwise he might have flushed from mortification when he recognized the look in the other man’s eyes. Quickly, he turned his head to look pointedly at the area of the room where they could get water. Quin followed his gaze and stepped back embarrassedly, allowing Obi-Wan to move past him. Wiping his face on the bottom of his tunic, he filled himself a cup of water and began to down it slowly, regarding Vos curiously as the man approached. Perhaps he was mistaken. There were ways he could find out. _Innocent_ ways.

 

“We should cool down,” Obi-Wan said nonchalantly, setting his empty cup down and watching Vos drain his own to catch up. Slowly, Obi-Wan walked over to an unused corner of the room, motioning for Quin to stand across from him and going into a series of intensive stretches. After a few minutes Obi-Wan brought them both to the ground, focusing on stretching the muscles in his legs. The sequence he chose had used to be one of his favorites—and still was—although he had quit practicing it in public after Siri Tachi had told him that it made him look _obscene_. “I’m not usually sparring with other acrobatic fighters, so I rarely get to use this sequence.” Obi-Wan looked up at Vos, smiling as innocently as he could. The redness on the man’s face and the parting of his lips as Obi-Wan bent himself forward into a deep frog stretch was all the confirmation he needed. Quinlan Vos was attracted to him. He wondered absently for how long.

 

Surprised by the fact that he was okay with Quinlan’s attraction, and finding himself amused by his break in composure, Obi-Wan finished the forms completely. It was satisfying and made his muscles feel wonderfully loose, and he kicked himself for not practicing it more often. Once he had finished, he stood, patted Quin on the shoulder amicably, thanked him for the workout, and left him blinking mulishly in the corner. A smirk touched Obi-Wan’s lips as he exited the salle and headed for his quarters, and he admitted to himself that he enjoyed Quinlan’s attentions. The man had always seemed so headstrong. So flippant. Cocky. But now Obi-Wan was aware that he could push the man to silence with a simple stretch, and something about that just felt right. Powerful. In control. And he needed that right now like he needed nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stopped doing the frog stretch when other people were around bc one of my friends is just as blunt as Siri Tachi and said that I looked like I was about to get fucked. I still haven’t gotten over the embarrassment and Obi-Wan never will either.


	11. Placing Blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan has another meeting with Healer Tresalis

“So. A Knight.” Healer Tresalis gave him a meaningful look. “I didn’t expect that, considering our last session. I have to say I’m proud of your decision to both accept, and to postpone your mission ready status.”

 

“I didn’t think it was a good idea right now.”

 

“Why not?” She leaned back comfortably. “Are there any day to day issues causing you distress?”

 

“Well, I didn’t do very well with people touching my braid, but I suppose that’s not much of an issue anymore.” He gestured to the recently trimmed section of hair behind his right ear.

 

“Physical triggers like that are common, Obi-Wan. There may be more you don’t know of yet, especially when we consider the fact that you aren’t sexually active.”

 

“Right. That’s my other problem.” Obi-Wan broke eye contact. He knew he’d have to admit his problem eventually, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t ashamed of it.

 

“And what would that be, Obi-Wan?” Tresalis gave him a coaxing smile.

 

“Well, regarding _sex._ ” Obi-Wan took a steadying breath. “I didn’t really used to think about it much, and when I did it was… normal.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

 

“You don’t think the way you’re thinking of it now is normal?” Healer Tresalis cocked her head and Obi-Wan knew he was walking into a trap. _Normal_ was a loaded word for her.

 

“Not unless wanting, uh. I mean I don’t _want_ anyone to hurt me. I _hated_ what Qui-Gon did.”

 

“No sexual preference is an invitation for rape Obi-Wan.” He could tell she was still looking at him but he avoided her gaze.

 

“Well, I’ve been imagining some fairly upsetting things, Healer Tresalis. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about them.”

 

“You’re not _supposed_ to feel a certain way about them, Obi-Wan.” Her voice was casual, and Obi-Wan wished he’d accepted some tea so he’d have something to do with his hands. “It’s okay if you find them exciting. It’s okay to find them frightening. It’s worth mentioning that our mind frames sex based on our earliest sexual encounters. It’s also quite common for the brain to try to normalize traumatizing experiences in order to lessen the impact. For example, if you were held down or hurt during a rape, your brain may tell itself that it _likes_ those things, that way the trauma doesn’t have to hurt as much. It doesn’t make the actual experience any less horrible.”

 

“That’s ridiculous, though.” Obi-Wan just about threw his hands up in annoyance. “Someone forces me to have sex with them and now suddenly I want someone to hold me down and, and—“ Obi-Wan cut himself off. He didn’t want to actually say it.

 

“That’s not an uncommon fantasy, even outside of trauma victims. Your mind is trying to normalize what happened to you.”

 

“So how do I make it go away?”

 

“It’s not that simple, Obi-Wan. You can’t just _change_ your fantasies on a whim.”

 

“Oh, so Qui-Gon managed it but a trained mind healer can’t?” Obi-Wan crossed his arms stubbornly. “See, if I think about what happened with _him_ I feel disgusted by it. That’s normal, right? But if I imagine the same thing with someone else, suddenly I want it. I want them to _use_ me. I don’t even imagine myself getting off, Tresalis, how fucked up is that?”

 

“It’s the only thing you know, Obi-Wan. You’ve never had sex that didn’t involve that. Your mind thinks that’s what sex _is.”_

 

“I thought you said that rape isn’t sex. That it’s violence.”

 

“I stand by those words, Obi-Wan.”

 

“And yet it has the power to effect my _sexual_ preferences?” Obi-Wan finally met her eyes, turning to glare.

 

“Yes.” Her face was impassive, and he felt his own anger fleeing him. He didn’t want to fight with her and he lowered his voice to reflect it.

 

“I flirted with Quinlan Vos the other day, in the training salles.” Obi-Wan deflated into his chair. “He’s attracted to me. I don’t even know what I think of him, but I enjoyed winding him up and then walking away. I never would have done something like that before.”

 

“Plenty of people flirt simply for fun, Obi-Wan. I believe it’s a favorite pastime of Vos himself.” She quirked her eyebrow up. “And just because you flirt with someone doesn’t mean you’re obligated to have sex with them.”

 

“What if I _do_ want to have sex with him?”

 

“Do you?”

 

“I don’t know. No.” He saw Tresalis nod. “He’s annoying and unable to take anything seriously. I’ve always disliked him.” He knit his eyebrows together. “He’s also attractive, and he wants to have sex with me.” Obi-Wan sighed in earnest. “He was amiable towards me after he thought I’d failed my trials, and tried to take my mind off of it. I suppose he’s not _all_ bad.”

 

“If you were to have sex with him and something happened that reminded you of Qui-Gon, would you feel comfortable telling him? Asking him to stop if you needed it?” Tresalis always knew exactly what question to ask. Of _course_ he wouldn’t be comfortable with it.

 

“No.”

 

“With that in mind, do you think it’s a good idea for you to have sex with him? Especially considering your new proclivities and the likelihood that they could be riddled with potential triggers?” Obi-Wan closed his eyes, annoyed.

 

“No.”

 

“Is there anyone you _would_ be comfortable exploring that with, perhaps starting with something more tame and less likely to be triggering?” 

 

“No.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, I can’t.” He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I know it’s not a good idea for me to have sex right now, but when _will_ it be? How do I even know if I want to?”

 

“That’s up to you Obi-Wan, but preferably it will be when you’re comfortable with the idea. Right now you’re anything but.” Obi-Wan nodded and stood, fixing to pour himself a cup of the diluted green monstrosity that passed for tea in Tresalis’ office. “Obi-Wan, I’m going to give you a chance to bring up the elephant in the room.” 

 

“I suppose if I don’t, you’re going to bring it up for me?” He sat back down, this time with a warm mug in hand. Healer Tresalis nodded. “You want to talk about Master Jinn.” He took a sip of his tea and grimaced. “His expulsion.”

 

“The listed reason for expulsion is physical abuse of his padawan. Was that the Council’s idea?” She mirrored him, sipping at her own mug as she waited for an answer.

 

“No. It was my idea.” He looked at the healer curiously. “I didn’t want everyone to know what happened, but I thought that perhaps if the records reflected abuse of some sort then people would be discouraged from asking me intrusive questions. The last thing I wanted was the entire temple traipsing up to me and asking why Qui-Gon had been expelled.”

 

“Smart.” Tresalis leaned back in her chair. “I hope it will prove successful. Would you have voted to expel Master Jinn, had you been sitting on the Council?” Obi-Wan pretended to think for a moment. He knew that he would not have, no matter how angry he had been about Jinn’s confession. He understood why the Council had voted that way, and no doubt he would have agreed if the situation involved someone other than himself. Instead of answering, he looked up at Tresalis and gave her a sly smile, snapping the band on his wrist. She let out a sharp laugh of surprise.

 

“Well, at least you know it’s contradictory. I suppose you still believe you facilitated the situation?” Obi-Wan started to agree, but caught himself, furrowing his brow in thought.

 

“Master Qui-Gon confessed at the hearing. He said that he knew I didn’t want it but that he did it anyway.” He looked up slowly, trying to gauge Tresalis’ reaction. She was a blank slate, waiting for him to continue. “I had thought that perhaps my not telling him to stop and my neglect of our training bond were the reason, but I suppose I can’t think that anymore. I still think I should have tried to stop him, though. It’s possible he would have reconsidered his actions had I fought him.”

 

“You are not responsible for his actions, Obi-Wan. The decision to rape you was his and his alone.”

 

“Aren’t I, though?” Obi-Wan gave Tresalis a searching look “Usually I would agree with you, but I was his padawan. His actions _were_ my responsibility. Had we been on a mission and I witnessed him attacking someone, it would have been my duty to stop him and to guide him back to the light. Why is that duty any different when _I’m_ the one being assaulted?”

 

“You,” Tresalis took a sip of tea, reveling in the dramatic pause, “were busy. Being assaulted isn’t an easy thing to deal with, Obi-Wan. If Master Jinn was attacking a civilian and you were unable to help because you were being assaulted yourself, it would have been perfectly understandable that you could not intervene.” Obi-Wan looked down at the floor. “You have many responsibilities, Obi-Wan, but your first is to yourself.”

 

“Then I’ve failed in that responsibility as well. I allowed myself to be raped.” He saw Healer Tresalis opening her mouth to argue and continued before she could speak. “Had I been tasked with protecting someone and I had simply stood mutely by as they were harmed, I would have failed. Egregiously.”

 

“Yet, had you been unable to intervene because you were being assaulted, it would have been perfectly understandable.” Obi-Wan shook his head vigorously, allowing a frustrated growl to escape his throat.

 

“It would still be a _failure_ , Tresalis.”He slammed his mug down.

 

“You do not choose your mission assignments, Obi-Wan.” Tresalis kept her voice steady, ignoring the outburst. “As a padawan, it was the responsibility of the Council and of your master to ensure that you were not placed in a situation you were unprepared for. As a Knight, that responsibility still falls to the Council. Would you blame a Knight for failing if they were sent alone on a mission that required a team?” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Then why do you blame yourself for failing, Obi-Wan? It was Master Jinn’s responsibility to look out for you, and instead he purposefully placed you in a situation he knew you were unprepared for.”

 

“I didn’t even _try,_ ” he spat. “That is _my_ failure.”

 

“You might have been injured severely if you had, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon Jinn was one of the best fighters in the Order. He was significantly larger than you, and he also held a position of authority over you. It’s not uncommon for the body to naturally freeze up in a situation where moving could risk harm. You were also quite likely shocked and confused by the personal betrayal of his actions.”

 

Obi-Wan was silent, looking at his hands. He just didn’t know what he could say to make her understand. He glanced up, trying to convey the confusion and desperation on his face instead.

 

“Obi-Wan, I know it’s hard to accept that sometimes there’s nothing you can do.” She stared at him intently and he leaned back, affronted. She didn’t _understand_. “You were betrayed, and you were helpless. Pretending that it’s your fault means not having to admit that you can’t always stop bad things from happening. It means that you were raped and you couldn’t stop it, and it means that it could happen again. You may be a Jedi but you’re not all powerful.”

 

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Obi-Wan balked. “Every Jedi accepts risk of harm as part of their life the moment they commit to the order. It’s not as if I haven’t been injured before.”

 

“You weren’t on a mission, Obi-Wan. You were in private with someone you _trusted_.”

 

“What do you want me to say?” He threw his hands out, frustrated. He had half a mind to up and leave the session altogether. “Oh, Healer Tresalis, you’re _right_. What an _idiot_ I’ve been! Clearly I’m lying to myself, pretending that I’m some _God_ who’s above pain. I’m actually just a damaged child who can’t handle someone fucking me without having an existential crisis!”

 

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it, Obi-Wan. Drink your tea.”

 

“This,” Obi-Wan glared, “is the saddest excuse for _tea_ I’ve ever had the displeasure of tasting in my life.”

 

“Thank you. It’s my favorite.” Tresalis took a sip, waiting as Obi-Wan slowly began to gather himself. “It’s perfectly natural to not want to feel helpless, Obi-Wan. You’ve done nothing wrong.” He looked up to her, deflating tiredly. “It’s okay to place the blame where it belongs. Qui-Gon Jinn betrayed your trust.”

 

“He never hurt me before, Tresalis. Twelve years as his apprentice and he never hurt me. If his decision was uninfluenced, then he would have done this long before.” He toyed with the mug on the desk, pushing at the handle. “He said it was because he felt powerless. Because of Naboo, and Anakin, and the Zabrakian we clashed with on Tatooine, but if powerlessness is all it took to push him to assault me,” Obi-Wan pushed the cup away from him, “then he would have done it after Tahl died. There must be _some_ other factor.”

 

“And you think that factor is you?”

 

“What else _could_ it be?”

 

“Any host of things, Obi-Wan. Minds are complex and I cannot tell you why he chose to make the decision he did. I can however, tell you that _you_ are facing the consequences. That may not be fair or just, but it is reality and it must be dealt with. Part of dealing with that is admission of and belief in the fact that you are not to blame for what happened.”

 

“I know I’m not, Tresalis.” Obi-Wan sighed. “I’m not _daft._ I know that I’m not, but it still feels like I am. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

 

“I guess we have new homework for you, then.” Obi-Wan looked up at her curiously. “That band you’ve been using. It’s not for contradictions anymore. I want you to snap it anytime you feel like what happened was your fault, and then I want you to remind yourself that it wasn’t. Correct yourself mentally.” 

 

“What good will that do?” He gave her a skeptical look.

 

“Hopefully it will help you start to believe your own words. Repetition can do wonders, Obi-Wan.” She smiled warmly. “Repetition and time. Now, is this something you can do?” Obi-Wan sighed defeatedly.

 

“Yes, Tresalis. I suppose it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed your break from the constant updating that was last weekend. I went a bit ham with the end of finals, but it's nice to be back on a schedule now. The new job is great.
> 
> Thanks so much for all the support, you guys! I hope you like the update.


	12. One Step Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery is two steps forward, one step back
> 
> In this case, it's a really big step back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up for a minor character death, explicit sex--consensual but far far far from healthy, a nice dose of dissociation, and some very light bdsm themes.
> 
> Edit: Adding this note after this chapter has already been up for a bit because someone just messaged me on ff.net asking if my story is meant to be erotic. They were torn between finding it hot or not because of my comments relating it to personal experience. I'd like to say it's 100% a-okay if anyone reading this story finds it erotic. We all got our kinks, and just because there's an aspect of catharsis to this story for me doesn't mean anyone reading this has to feel guilty about how they feel when reading it. If I was uncomfortable with the idea of someone reading it that way, I wouldn't have posted it on the internet for strangers to read. No need for guilt--go crazy my guys. I'm going to post another note on the next chapter as well for those who missed this because I added it late, but I want it here as well because this chapter is what spurred someone to as that question.

It was Master Ti’s pyre that had led him there. The grief. The responsibility. The overwhelming _guilt_ of it all. Watching the fires swim as Anakin looked up at him, unfamiliar with the customs and unsure how to behave. Trying to explain that it had been a Sith. _The_ Sith. The Sith Obi-Wan had seen with his own eyes and not recognized for what it was—blind ignorance twisting into pain as another paid for his own stupidity. Padme had been there as well, comforting the boy. No doubt she was consoling him now. If it weren’t for her then Maris would have died as well. Such young blood would have been on his hands. He could see her despair as she lit the pyre. So young. So much potential.

 

Padme wanted to talk to him, but the funeral had been a convenient distraction—and wasn’t that a horrible thing for him to think. Shaak Ti’s burning corpse was _convenient_ simply because it allowed him to delay a conversation he didn’t want to have. He sipped his drink, head shaking of it’s own accord. The liquid burnt his throat, but that was what he wanted. Alcohol served very few purposes in the grand scheme of things, and it was a blessing that two of those purposes were _pain_ and _forgetfulness._ Maybe he could drink so much that he forgot the funeral. Or better yet, the entire month. Maybe he’d just drink so much that he died.

 

The bartender handed him a shot, and he looked up in surprise before there was a chuckle next to him. It occurred to Obi-Wan that he was more drunk than he’d believed he was if he had not only allowed himself to wallow in his feelings for so long without the slightest attempt to release them, but also gained the company of the man next to him without noticing. It also occurred to him that he didn’t care how drunk he was. He picked up the shot, clinking his glass with the stranger’s, rapping it lightly on the bar and tossing it back. The stranger didn’t rap his glass on the bar, drinking it immediately instead and causing Obi-Wan to bristle at the asymmetry of it. 

 

“I’m not usually this somber.” Obi-Wan shook his annoyance off, regarding the man next to him. Human. Black hair. There was nothing remarkable about his features other than the slightly rough quality of their combination.

 

“What are you usually?” The man slid his own glass away from him, leaning forward. He wore dark trousers and a plain blue shirt. Obi-Wan had ditched his tunics and thrown on a loose cream shirt. He didn’t want to be identified as a Jedi, but the boots and pants alone wouldn’t call attention to him.

 

“Reserved. Collected.” Obi-Wan slid his glass as well, matching the distance exactly. “Or if you’d believe my friends rather than me you might hear the phrase _tightly wound_.” The man laughed. Obi-Wan did too, although he didn’t know why. He pulled the drink he’d bought himself to his lips, sipping.

 

“So what drives such a tightly wound man to get soused on a weekday?” The man set credits on the table, ordering himself something to sip on.

 

“I was tired of being around people.” Obi-Wan gave a wry smile when he saw the man raise an eyebrow. Something about this entire situation was almost absurdly humorous. It was so unlike him that it felt as if he wasn’t really there. Surely Knight Kenobi was still in the temple, diligently doing his job and consoling those who needed it most after the loss they had all faced. 

 

“You were tired of being around people so you came to a bar?” There was a hint of irony to the question, and Obi-Wan found himself laughing again in response. He usually enjoyed irony.

 

“Ah yes,” he raised his glass, tilting his head to the side in a thoughtful manner, “perhaps I didn’t think that one through.”

 

“Perhaps you didn’t.” The man pitched his voice, copying Obi-Wan’s high Coruscanti accent. Obi-Wan liked to think it made him sound refined, but here in the middle levels it was more likely to be seen as stuck up. “I didn’t catch your name.”

 

“I didn’t say it.” Obi-Wan sipped his drink again. It was close to empty. “Obi-Wan.”

 

“Fetris,” the man responded, standing. The motion put him closer to Obi-Wan, legs brushing against where knees jutted out from the stool. “And if you really don’t want to be around people, I’m sure we can find somewhere less crowded.” Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow, looking pointedly around at the half empty room. 

 

“Because it’s so busy here?” He let his voice lilt, showing his amusement. He finished his drink.

 

“Exactly.” Fetris leaned over, hand moving to his shoulder as his body bent over Obi-Wan’s. His mouth was by his ear now as he whispered. “Unless you really did just come here to sulk.” Obi-Wan let his eyebrows furrow at that. He _wasn’t_ there to sulk, but he knew that going with Fetris was a bad idea for all the reasons he and Tresalis had discussed just days before.

 

And wasn’t that _hilarious_.

 

Even now he was letting everyone except for himself decide what he did with his body. He was letting fear control his actions—fear that had no right to be there. He was Jedi Knight and he was afraid to touch another human because he might _remember something._ No. Everything in him screamed. Everything he’d been taught since he was a child. Fear leads to anger, anger to hate. Fear is the path to the dark side. Suffering. He didn’t have to suffer if he would just let go of his fear. It was that simple, and he let himself chuckle at the realization, breath warming Fetris’ ear as he stood up, body automatically pressing against the man in the space between their seats.

 

“Where, exactly, did you have in mind?”

 

The answer to his question was as simple as it was easily achieved. A moment to tip the bartender, a moment to walk outside, and Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself pressed against a wall. He laughed again as a tongue slipped in his mouth, and he pressed his own forward in return. He’d never done this, not really. He wondered if he was any good at it, only to quickly find himself not caring as his body was ground against. He pulled his hands down, tugging at clothing and feeling it blur away in a drunken haze. His shirt pulled over his head. His arm catching awkwardly in the sleeve. The tie of his pants undone. He started to stumble and covered it by falling gracefully to his knees instead, mouthing at the rough fabric of Fetris’ trousers. This was something Qui-Gon had not forced on him. This was something he could truly experience for the first time.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Fetris whispered, hands pushing the fabric down before tangling into hair. The touch was light, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wish he would just grab _harder_ as he began to move his tongue over the half hard dick in front of him. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what to do. He’d pleasured himself before, and he was a creative man. He used his hands and his tongue until half hard became hard, and then he pushed his mouth over the head, tongue pressing up along the bottom. Pleasure required motion. Friction. He bobbed his head to provide it, pushing just until it was uncomfortable and wishing still that the other man would hold him _tighter_. His own hands moved to fall over Fetris’, clamping them down in encouragement until he felt a slight pain in his scalp as the other man caught on.

 

And that was all the encouragement that was needed, apparently. The rhythm was torn from him as he was thrust into, his head held firmly in place. Moisture settled at the corners of his eyes as he dug nails into skin, discomfort clawing at his throat. He pulled in shallow breaths when he could, eyes lolling at the loss of control and he reached a hand down to rub at himself through his own pants. He was hard, and it was difficult to think about anything other than his own arousal and the way his mouth was being used. He heard Fetris’ breath hitch and his mouth was emptied but his head remained held in place.

 

“ _Fuck._ ” Fetris looked down at him lewdly. “ _Fuck_ you want it bad.”

 

And Obi-Wan knew what he looked like. Half naked and rubbing at himself in front of a stranger. The humor of it all washed over him again. He could waltz back into the temple still tousled and smelling of sex, tell everyone exactly where he’d been and what he’d been doing, and never be believed. They’d laugh it off as some sort of absurdist humor. Obi-Wan Kenobi having sex in an alley, _sure_ , and Bantha can fly. It felt good to do something so out of character. Tangible proof that he could influence events around him. He looked up at Fetris, letting his eyes cloud as he let his hand sink beneath the waistband of his pants to stroke himself. 

 

He stumbled as he was pulled up, but let the movement carry him forward until his lips were once again locked in a fierce kiss. His pants were pushed down to his knees and his head was pulled back again. The way he was twisted was not fluid. He was staggered into the wall more than anything else, and when he moved to help press himself against it there was another chuckle as his arm was grabbed and wrenched behind him.

 

“Eager.” Hot breath. “You like getting your ass fucked as rough as you do your mouth, Obi-Wan?” The words were growled into his ear and fingers were shoved into his mouth. He nodded and let out an affirming mewl. He didn’t want to use words right now. Didn’t want to speak. _Definitely_ didn’t want to accidentally start a conversation about his sexual history, or lack thereof. The fingers were removed and he hissed as one was pressed inside of him. Teeth pressed inquiringly against his shoulder, not hard enough to hurt or mark. Permission. He wanted permission.

 

“Nothing above the collar,” he gasped out, feeling a smile against his skin as he spoke. No need for anyone in the temple to see. “No marks above the collar.” Teeth sunk into his skin, still soft but stinging sweetly. His other hand was grabbed, arms behind him and forcing his back to arch and his face to press against the wall as another finger was added. The fingers were scissoring, burning him, scalding, and as the third one was skipped and a cock began to press against him instead, time melted away.

 

Grunts mingled with the ever-present city sounds that could never be escaped on Coruscant, and Obi-Wan felt nothing but the searing _hurt_ in his ass, his shoulders, his skin where it was pressed against the rough wall in front of him. He could hear himself breathing. Shuddering inhales. His body no longer existed apart from the bright points of pain. His muscles existed only to carry the ache as it radiated outwards.

 

Fetris was more real than he was in that moment. Coruscant was more real. The building digging into his skin existed in a more tangible way than Obi-Wan himself, even as he let out a cry of mingled pain and pleasure as his arms were released and a hand reached around him to grip his cock. His body was energy existing in this space, physical feeling holding him to the planet better than gravity ever could have managed. Without sensation, his entire being would be rent from his body and scattered throughout space, so far apart that his soul would experience it’s own personal heat death.

 

And then it was over. His cock was spent and he had a stranger’s cum inside of him. The pain was still there, dully holding his body in the alley as the body behind him slumped against him. There was sweat everywhere.

 

“Shit.” He could feel the man peel away from him but remained pressed against the wall. He moved his fingers against it to see if he was really there. A hand appeared on his shoulder and he jerked around, only to see his shirt being offered to him. “Fuck, you okay Obi-Wan?” Fetris had an odd expression on his face. “I thought that you wanted—fuck.”

 

“No, it’s fine.” Obi-Wan was surprised to hear his voice come out raspy. He was surprised to hear himself speak at all. He brought his hand up to his face and found tears, and for a moment he was transfixed by the way they mingled with the sweat on his fingers. _Salt water,_ he thought, and for some reason it felt profound. He grabbed his shirt and put it on slowly, joints bending a synapse behind. Fetris gave him a worried look. “I need to call a cab.” He needed to leave this alleyway. He needed to never see the man in front of him again. He needed all memory of this event to fade quickly from the galaxy.

 

“Do you want to—“

 

“No.” Obi-Wan pulled his pants up and tied them, glad he didn’t have to bother with the boots. “No, I need a cab.”

 

And then he was getting in a cab. He remembered pulling out his comm. Staring blankly at the screen as his fingers requested a pickup. He remembered walking to the street, but those were memories. They existed only in the past. They had never had a present, never been a _now_ the way he was sitting in the cab _now_. Coruscant flew by and he asked the cab driver if it was obvious he’d just had sex. He laughed, and the man told him yes and directed him to fix his hair. The unruly cut was easy to fix, as it was short and stuck up by default. He fussed with his clothes, undoing his safety belt to arrange them into perfect alignment. By the time he was at the temple, he was receiving a strange look.

 

_He realized I’m a Jedi. A Jedi who just stumbled into his cab after getting fucked in an alleyway._

 

“Are you sure this is—“

 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan practically shoved credits at him. He knew how it looked already. He didn’t need to hear it from anyone else. He just needed to get back to his quarters.

 

And then he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was probably tougher for me to write than the first chapter, which is saying something. It also was a pretty palpable release, though. 
> 
> Life goes on, worry not. Obi-Wan will get things figured out eventually, just like I did.
> 
> Also, always always always do proper aftercare, even if it's only light stuff or you don't know the person.


	13. A New Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan runs away from his problems, unearthing (uncoruscanting?) a host of new ones along the way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, but it's a bit of a turning point. I'm sorry if it feels abrupt (and also that it took me so long to write), but it was tough for me to write organically. I must have rewritten it from the start at least five times, trying to make it so it didn't feel rushed or out of nowhere. The last chapter was meant to be a bit of a springboard for this one, but I'm not sure how effectively I actually achieved that.

Obi-Wan sat in the cockpit of a ship, thoughts floating across his mind in an accidental mockery of meditation. It wasn’t that he couldn’t focus, but rather that he knew that focusing on his motivations would lead him to change his mind. He didn’t want to change his mind.

 

There were reasons for him to leave the temple. The Sith menace had revealed itself on Naboo, and Queen Amidala had left him a message the previous night stating that she was returning to her planet. He had missed his opportunity to speak with her and the Council had declined her request for aid. Apparently they were adequately convinced that Darth Maul had been the extent of the problem—that he was simply a rogue force user who had taken up the mantel of Sith, but who was ultimately working alone. Obi-Wan didn’t buy it, but he wasn’t sure if his unease was due to his prescience or was simply residual anxiety regarding his own actions of the previous night. Perhaps he was just hungover.

 

He couldn’t request leave for Naboo, though. He had sent that ship sailing himself when he had insisted he not be cleared as mission ready. Perhaps if he asked Healer Tresalis she would understand. She could tell the Council that he needed to go.

 

But she wouldn’t. Because he wasn’t in any place to be helping _anyone_ and he knew it. He had proven that the night before. Honestly, when had he become so _pathetic_ that he couldn’t even handle a funeral without running away and getting drunk in the mid levels? When had he become so _stupid_ that he thought getting fucked by a stranger against an alley wall would help him with, well, anything? When had he become a spectator in his own life, unable to turn on a ship, defy The Council, and fuck off to Naboo like the renegade he was? Like the renegade who had _trained_ him?

 

“ _When that renegade betrayed you,_ ” a voice in his head chimed. “ _When he showed you firsthand that sometimes rules were made to be followed. That they exist to protect those who are vulnerable._ ” Obi-Wan shook his head. Could he trust _anything_ Qui-Gon had taught him? Could he trust the Council? If a roomful of Jedi Masters had decided the Sith weren’t a threat, who was he to say otherwise? He was nothing more than a newly minted Knight. He had never been on a mission alone, and now he was considering attempting to take on an unknown Sith threat by himself as an excuse to run away from his problems on Coruscant. As an excuse to run from the relative safety of the Temple to an allusive danger on what would likely end up to be either a colossal waste of time or a suicide mission, with no chance of it falling in between.

 

He turned the ship on. Waste of time, suicide mission—either one sounded fine to him. Sounded better than returning to Tresalis and having to fess up to his own idiocy. Better than returning to his room to continue slogging through his life, devoid of schedule and normalcy and _movement_. He didn’t even have anything scheduled today to distract himself. Yoda had taken that away when he ripped him from his regular padawan classes, and he no longer had a Master to train with.

 

_Beep_

 

Someone was… boarding the ship? He turned his head, looking back out of the cockpit. His head was reeling. What if it was Bant? Fisto? Tresalis? How would he explain what he had been doing, sitting in this ship for the last hour? _“I’m sorry Master, I was just contemplating running away from my responsibilities like a coward, under the guise of helping someone with a problem that may or may not actually exist.”_ He shook his head, attempting to clear it.

 

“Knight Kenobi?”

 

Maris Brood popped her head around the doorway, looking at him hesitantly. She wore a traveling cloak which had slipped down just far enough to reveal her intimidating red horns.

 

“Padawan Brood?” Obi-Wan tilted his head. Of all the people he suspected might walk onto his ship, she was not one of them. His mind began to slip back into the present, and he felt another presence just out of reach. This one was brighter. Familiar. “Anakin?”

 

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin slid into view, having previously been just around the doorway. “Are you leaving?”

 

_Guilt_. Immediate guilt. That’s what Obi-Wan felt in that moment. He couldn’t run away and leave Anakin to fend for himself.

 

“Of course he is, Anakin.” Maris stood tall, exuding confidence. He could feel her doubt. 

 

“I’m not—“

 

“Can we come with you?” Anakin gave him a hopeful look. “I want to see Padme. I want to make sure she’s okay.” He glanced down. “I could feel how worried she was, when she visited me yesterday. Something’s wrong.”

 

“We don’t have permission from the Jedi Council, Anakin.” Obi-Wan glanced at Maris. Anakin may want to see to the Queen, but Maris would be much more difficult to argue with. Already her face was becoming stern.

 

“You’re a Knight.” She crossed her arms. “Go anyway. Take us.”

 

“I’m not mission cleared, Padawan Brood.” Obi-Wan stood from his seat. He wasn’t a tall man, but compared to the children before him his height was actually an advantage for once. A reminder of his age and rank.

 

“Why not?” Anakin tilted his head to the side.

 

“You didn’t see the way he fought.” Brood threw her hands to her sides, ignoring Anakin’s question and causing his brows to furrow. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. He wasn’t Jedi trained, Knight Kenobi, but he fought my Master and I both without tiring. He drew on something so dark that I could feel the weight of it before he entered the room. He was trained. There are others like him.”

 

“One other, perhaps.” Obi-Wan looked to the side, avoiding her gaze. It was possible that she was right, of course. It was the reason he had just been using to convince himself to act mere minutes ago. “There are never more than two Sith, Maris, and it’s equally possible that he worked alone.”

 

“ _No._ ” Brood stepped forward, bringing herself up as tall as she could. “There are two, Knight Kenobi. And if there truly was only one, then all we will lose is time.”

 

“I’m not mission cleared, Maris.” Obi-Wan gave a stern glance towards Anakin, warning him silently not to ask why again. He cursed himself as a hurt look crossed the boy’s face.

 

“Then the Jedi Order will not even lose an operative. One inactive Knight, an orphaned padawan, and an unclaimed initiate. There will be no loss.” Obi-Wan turned back, glancing down to the controls of the ship. It was still on, ready to be piloted into space. It would be so _easy_. He wouldn’t even have to leave Anakin, since the boy was right there next to him.

 

“Promise me one thing, Brood.” Obi-Wan swung his head back, regarding the girl seriously. He may be about to make a mistake himself, but damn if he was going to allow a child to do the same thing. “Promise me this is for the right reasons, Maris. Promise me that you are not using this to run from your grief.”

 

“I’m not running away from my grief, Kenobi.” Brood tilted her chin up, exuding cold confidence. “I’m running towards it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, time for the actual plot to begin. Don't worry, there's still plenty of growth in the cards for Obi-Wan, he just needs a new setting, new stimuli, and the chance to be thrust into the role of teacher to achieve it. He has always canonically thrived while leading others, and the best thing I could think of for him is to place him in a situation where he's required to recognize flaws and ways forward for others who rely on him, and for him to then relate that to himself. Vos, Bant, and Fisto will all still be majorly involved, so don't worry about the setting change regarding that. Tresalis is still in the cards as well.


	14. Transmissions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip to Naboo continues, and the Jedi Order makes contact with Obi-Wan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been filling all the prompts for SubObi week instead of writing this. My bad. I'll be posting those stories this week, and it feels good to be back to writing something with an actual plot and a message instead of my useless PWPs.

The ship wasn’t large. Other than the cockpit and engine room it held only a small cargo hold which housed a few replacement parts but was otherwise empty, a main central area holding a table with two seats, and a one person bedroom. It was most definitely not designed for three travelers.

 

In Obi-Wan’s defense, he had planned on fleeing the temple alone. His two guests had been a last minute addition.

 

“Are you really going to sleep there?” Maris stepped into the cockpit, yawning. She had retired to the makeshift bed in the cargo hold hours ago, and Obi-Wan had assumed she was long asleep. The bed would only fit two without risking someone being elbowed out, and his young tagalongs had insisted on taking turns sleeping elsewhere rather than simply allowing Obi-Wan to take the floor. Unfortunately he found himself unable to argue with their combined stubbornness, or he would have gone to sleep long ago. Instead he had feigned being occupied until he believed both Maris and Anakin asleep before settling himself in the pilot’s chair. “It looks uncomfortable.”

 

“I prefer to have my own space,” Obi-Wan replied carefully. The truth was that it was uncomfortable. He had leaned forward to rest his head on the console, and he could already feel the strain on his back. Maris raised an eyebrow at him. He sighed.

 

“Are you really that uncomfortable? We’re kids, Knight Kenobi. It’s not like one of us is going to… hurt you.” Brood cast her gaze to the side, bringing a hand up to lean against the doorframe.

 

“I’m not worried about that,” Obi-Wan sighed, sitting up fully and rubbing his eyes. He was already tired enough without having to deal with the fact that someone aboard this ship was willing and able to call him out on his own bullshit. “I just don’t think it would be appropriate.” He heard Maris snort in response.

 

“Right, because I’m sure Anakin has so much to worry about from you.” She walked forward to settle into the copilot’s seat.

 

“He should learn what the correct boundaries are, though. He should be able to know if somebody’s _crossing_ them.” Obi-Wan slouched back slightly. “And perhaps he shouldn’t trust me implicitly. I would never hurt him, but he doesn’t know that.”

 

“ _You_ know that, and you’re, well.” She shook her head. “I know he’s not your Padawan, but that doesn’t mean you’re not his teacher. There should be trust there.”

 

“But there should also be boundaries, Padawan Brood. It’s not historically been a problem in the Order, but perhaps the way our tutelage system works leaves the students too, well, _vulnerable._ ” Maris cocked her head to the side, and he fixed her with a small smile. “Tradition states that the Padawan be subservient to the Master. The bond there is formed through trust, yes, but what protections are there for the Padawan if that trust is betrayed? They are taught to acquiesce to their Master’s wisdom and experience. To follow them unquestioningly and to obey their orders. It is a system that is begging to be abused, and perhaps Anakin should know that before he considers ever taking a Master.”

 

“That system works, though. I would have fought Master Ti at every turn if it hadn’t been for bond and tradition. Sometimes I can be a bit… abrasive.” She turned her head shyly and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but laugh. “But I respected Master Ti. I trusted her. I was willing to set aside my pride and truly _learn_ from her.”

 

“I felt the same,” Obi-Wan muttered, “for Master Qui-Gon.” He looked down, fiddling with his hands. “I have no doubt that it helped me to learn, but was it worth it? We should not be teaching children to remain silent and submissive through their own abuse. There should be _limits._ ”

 

“Maybe.” Maris tucked her knee up onto her chair. “I don’t know. Maybe you're right, but I still don’t think you’re going to teach Anakin that by lying to him and falling asleep in the cockpit.”

 

“And maybe you’re right about that, Maris. Perhaps I’ll speak with him tomorrow. Force knows we’ll have plenty of time.”

 

“Take the cargo bay.” Maris stood, turning to leave the room. “I’ll tell Anakin you switched with me because my back hurt.”

 

“Maris—“

 

“Honestly, Kenobi. I’m not losing in this scenario. I’m the one who gets to take the bed an extra night.” She stepped forward, making her way into the bedroom. “Talk to Anakin.” Obi-Wan checked over the controls once more before standing and making his way towards the makeshift bed they had set up. It was really just a heap of extra blankets and a pillow, but it looked like the most inviting space in the galaxy, and he didn’t even have time to plan his upcoming conversation with Anakin before he was drifting off.

 

He woke early, by habit. A quick peek into the bedroom confirmed what he already felt in the force—Maris and Anakin were both still asleep. The picture they painted was quite adorable, really. Anakin had wrapped himself around the young teen in his sleep, a content smile on his face. Maris looked peaceful, for once. They truly were just children. He shut the door quietly. They had both had their lives torn from them recently, and deserved to sleep in.

 

Besides, there were two messages waiting on the comm, and he didn’t want them to be there when he opened them. _Deep breathes_ , he thought. Ignoring the messages wouldn’t make them go away. The Temple knew he was gone. He had left, and now he would need to face the consequences.

 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.” He pressed the button and Healer Tresalis’ face appeared on the holo. “I received no message, no warning, and no attempt at communication regarding your current leave from the Temple. I don’t know what spurred this _decision_ , but I know The Council will not ignore it. You have stolen a ship and have left with a Padawan and an initiate. Your life is about to get very complicated—not that it wasn’t already—and I understand if you’re afraid to come back. That is _okay_. It is _okay_ to be afraid. If you need to talk, I have left the number for my private work comm. My sessions are protected by Patient-Healer privilege, and so long as you are not going to directly harm anyone, yourself included, I will _not_ report any information—whether it be regarding your situation, state of mind, or location—to The Council.” Her face morphed from serious to soft. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Obi-Wan. I hope this is what you need.” The transmission cut out, and Obi-Wan deflated in his chair. Would he be able to call her? Would he be able to face her? Tell her _why_ he had done what he’d done? He pressed play on the second message.

 

“Knight Kenobi.” Mace Windu’s face appeared, speaker for The Council in tone and stature, and Obi-Wan bowed his head instinctively despite the fact that it was a recording. “The Council understands your situation, but it cannot excuse your actions. You chose to accept the role of Knight, and that title brings with it the expectation that you act as one. Stealing a ship and leaving the planet along with two Jedi children is a serious offense. You will respond within three standard days from the sending of this transmission or a team _will_ be dispatched to find you and return you.” The recording ended. No platitudes, simply business. Obi-Wan shivered.

 

He couldn’t go back _now._ The very idea was laughable. He had taken a padawan and an initiate without informing anyone of his departure or destination, how would he ever explain it if he just _returned_. He let out a shaky breath, double checking the autopilot and checking to make sure their hyperspace lane had remained clear. So far the ship was sailing easy, even if he wasn’t.

 

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin’s voice came from the doorway, thin with sleep.

 

“Good morning, Anakin. Sleep well?” He turned his head over the side of the chair, watching the boy rub at his eyes before blinking wearily.

 

“Yeah.” He walked up, hopping into the copilot’s chair and leaning on the terminal. “Did you?” He looked up curiously.

 

“I slept very well, thank you.” Obi-Wan turned to face the boy, and it occurred to him that he didn’t fully understand his reasons for coming to Naboo in the first place. His own reasons were obvious, if a bit convoluted, and Maris was clearly reacting to her Master’s death. Anakin, though. He had been so excited to come to the temple. To learn to be a Jedi. “Anakin, was something wrong at the Temple?” The boy looked up at him, sleepy and surprised.

 

“The Temple was great.” He turned and regarded the dials of the ship in front of him, locating a switch that wouldn’t alter their course and fiddling with it absently. “Once you started helping me, the lessons with the other initiates started to be a lot less difficult. I mean, I was still behind but at least I understood what our instructors were talking about.”

 

“You learn quickly, Anakin.” He wasn’t lying, either. Anakin caught on incredibly fast, especially regarding lightsaber training. He had clearly struggled with meditation, but he was able to manage it even if he found the actual sorting and release of his feelings to be a difficulty. With hard work, Obi-Wan had no doubts that he would be able to catch up in the four years before his thirteenth birthday. “If you were enjoying the Temple, why leave?”

 

“You were leaving.” Anakin tilted his head up, an open expression on his face. “Maris came and found me in the creche, said she was trying to find you. She wanted you to take her to Naboo.” The boy continued fiddling absently with terminal dials, only touching relatively unimportant ones and always returning them to their original position. He was obviously familiar with the controls. A natural pilot. Perhaps he would introduce him to Garen and they could discuss flight training. “She wanted me to help find you, and then when I saw you were going I didn’t really want to stay anymore.” He punctuated his answer with a small shrug.

 

“Anakin, you—” Obi-Wan paused, gathering his thoughts. “You know I wouldn’t abandon you, right?” The boy continued looking at the controls, shoulders dropping slightly. 

 

“You were leaving.” He looked up, face drawn tight.

 

“I, Anakin. Did you know that I left the Jedi Order when I was thirteen?” Anakin looked up at him, confused.

 

“No.”

 

“I was on a mission with Master Jinn. There was a civil war, and I wanted to help even though there had been no petition for Jedi assistance. I chose to stay, and my Master left me there.” Anakin’s eyes went wide, and for a moment Obi-Wan felt bad. He certainly hadn’t been casting Master Jinn in a very positive light. The man had rescued Anakin from slavery, for force sake. “He did return for me, when I eventually called for his help. He took me back to the temple and eventually took me back as his apprentice as well.”

 

“Eventually?” Anakin sounded miffed, and it was almost enough to make him laugh.

 

“Anakin, you don’t need to be worried. I’m never going to leave you on a war torn planet. I remember how difficult that was for me. How painful.” He shook his head. “But I used to look back on that mission, and even among all the pain I also saw it as proof that even if it pained him. Even if I had abandoned or betrayed him, my Master would return for me if I asked. He would ensure that I was safe, if I only had the humility to ask for his help.”

 

“But he still left you alone.” Anakin crossed his arms, an action that could only be described as pouty.

 

“Anakin, I am not your Master.” The pouty look intensified, and he reached out to touch the boys shoulder. A gesture of comfort and solidarity. “I am not your Master, but I am your teacher. You must understand that sometimes there are things I must do, and that I feel I must do them for myself. You must understand that I do not want to place you in harms way. And above all, Anakin.” He leaned forward, squeezing the boy’s shoulder. “You must understand that no matter what I am doing, if you feel that I have abandoned you or if you need my help or guidance, all you must do is ask for my help. I will always return for you.

 

Anakin nodded, turning back to play with the terminal again. He seemed unconvinced, but Obi-Wan couldn’t for the life of him think of anything that he could say. The boy didn’t need empty words, he needed actions. He would simply have to _prove_ that he would be there for him, and so far he had done nothing but royally mess it all up.

 

“I’m sorry for failing you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan turned back, looking out into the blur of hyperspace travel. “I am not perfect, and my life has been torn up by the roots, recently. I am hardly fit to be a Knight, much less to be teaching an initiate.” Anakin turned back to him, stunned.”

 

“You’re _amazing_ , Obi-Wan! You’ve taught me all sorts of things!” The blind adoration made something within him warm, but at the same time it terrified him. He remembered being an initiate. He remembered striving to impress a Master who was struggling with his own emotional baggage. He remembered the way that Qui-Gon had been unable to trust, the way he had been fearful of taking a new Padawan and failing. That adoration had hurt him in so many ways. It had set him up for failure. Made him strive for perfection in the hopes that he would eventually be good enough. He knew now that it had never been his own inadequacies that caused the initial disconnection. It wasn’t his fault that Qui-Gon had not wanted to choose him. It was two broken people finding each other, and his adoration had stopped him from being able to see any fault but his own.

 

“I am flawed, Anakin. You may not see that now, but I have been hurt and I make mistakes. I have already made them and I will make them again.” He reached forward, mirroring Anakin’s action and finding a switch to fidget with. “There are things you do not know about. Things you do not understand. Ways that I am flawed which you cannot see. You will see them someday, and I only hope that you will not be looking back at how they hurt you, but rather at how we both learned from them and allowed them to make us stronger.” Anakin looked at him, curious.

 

“How can we do that?” The blind adoration was still there, but at least he was asking the right questions. He held his hand out to Anakin, truly unsure what the answer was. They were both unsure together, so they would do the only thing the could do. Turn to the force.

 

“We meditate.”


	15. Grief and Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip to Naboo continues, and our travelers are not immune to the effects of Cabin Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, everyone. That was quite the break from this story, huh. It's been a month, that's for sure. I worked long hours at my new job. My apartment was robbed. I had family visit unexpectedly. 
> 
> Every time I settled down to write, I just couldn't. I got so swept up in all the unexpected that kept happening, that this story just kept eluding me. I tried to reread it so I could pick up where I left off, but I was so tired and I just kept falling asleep. 
> 
> And now I'm finally seeming to be settling back in. Back at my apartment, ready for my last year of college. Things are settling down again and I can focus once more on normalcy. On myself. Writing this fic has been such a cathartic thing for me and I am so grateful to every one of you who has read it or commented or supported it in any way.
> 
> Now I know this chapter isn't much. The narrative is in a place of transition right now and so am I. I just got back though, and it feels good to be putting something out there again. Thank you once more to all of you. It's good to be back.

Obi-Wan hadn’t realized how much he valued his privacy until it was lost. He supposed that made sense, though. There had been many things of value in his life which he did not appreciate until he’d had to go without. He had not recognized what an honor it was to be trained in the Temple until he had been sent to the Agri-Corps. Only through an attempted mind wipe had he learned to embrace even the memories he sometimes wished were gone. The Force itself was something he had taken for granted until the first time he had been placed under the effects of a dampener.

 

And then he had been violated, and now he yearned for the times when he could sit through a simple, three day journey without the urge to hide himself. Or perhaps even just two days ago, when he at least had a room to do that hiding in.

 

He’d been in cramped quarters before, certainly, but never while so intensely aware of the existence of his body. And never when he was in such desperate need of inner peace. Privacy. Autonomy.

 

Anakin seemed to be everywhere at once. Climbing back to access the engine, making use of his youth and small stature to slide among the dangerous and active components unharmed. The ship was probably better for the boy’s tinkering, but in truth Obi-Wan couldn’t tell. He had never been particularly gifted when it came to mechanical work. He knew enough to get by and to not get completely shafted by slick handed mechanics, but that was it.

 

Of course, when Anakin _wasn’t_ busying himself with the engines he _was_ busying himself with Obi-Wan. Asking increasingly childish questions about Padme as his interest moved from the situation on Naboo to what Padme liked to eat for breakfast and if she was really going to be wearing her full regalia when they arrived. Anakin of course had fallen in love, if you could really call his heady crush that, with a handmaiden, not a queen. Obi-Wan wondered how the boy would react to her relentless political side. He worried the answer would be _not well._

 

And Brood. Well, Brood just brooded.

 

14 was a rough age.

 

She resented that Obi-Wan hadn’t explained the _bed_ issue to Anakin, but that wasn’t the entire problem. The closer they got to Naboo, the more he could feel it. Her agitation. Her fear of returning to the place that had caused her pain. Her _rage_ at the man who had slaughtered her Master. Obi-Wan wanted to talk to her. To _help._ But he could barely manage to extricate himself from Anakin’s chirping, and when he did he found himself seeking peace and quiet. His mind was so cluttered and he was so on edge from The Council’s ultimatum to actually send someone after them that it took all he had to simply hide his agitation from the other passengers. Any chance he could he hid himself away, justifying it by telling himself that he needed to release his worry. That he needed to strengthen his shields.

 

But mostly he just sat. Not doing much of anything apart from _not_ helping the people he was meant to and he was tired. So tired and unable to sleep with people so close to him like this. It had never been a problem before. Not even during his first night on the ship. No, this particular anxiety hadn’t crept it’s way up until his discussion with Maris. That conversation had been a one way ticket to overthinking _everything._

 

He’d shared sleeping spaces with Qui-Gon before, on missions. Nothing had ever _happened_. There had been trust there, but he believed his own words from earlier. He believed in boundaries and the right to set them. That was something that had _not_ been discussed when he was a child. But what was he doing, thinking that way? Was he accusing The Order of making their children vulnerable? Allowing them to be groomed? Grooming them themselves? After all, Obi-Wan had almost not told anyone and he was twenty-five, for force sake. What would he have done if he’d been violated as a child? Would he have told anyone? Would he have fought back? Would he have even realized it was _wrong?_

 

There was a presence in the room with him. Even the cargo hold wasn’t a realistic place of escape when you were being relentlessly sought after by two force sensitive children.

 

“Come to seek me out and glare at me some more, Maris?” He kept his eyes closed, stilling his frantic meditations. She wasn’t calm either, and somehow that soothed him.

 

“No, I just—“ Maris stuttered for a moment, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes just in time to see her turn around to leave.

 

“You came to be alone.” Obi-Wan saw her stop, head dropping.

 

“Well, it always seems to help _you_. I thought maybe—I know I’m supposed to be able to block things out but—“

 

“Meditation comes easier when you don’t have to, and you must have a great deal to sort through. Just because you _can_ meditate around distractions doesn’t mean you should when there is an alternative.” Obi-Wan glanced up and deliberately moved himself to the side, offering the space next to him. Maris narrowed her eyes, halted for a moment, and then came to join him.

 

He was glad to notice she had settled herself just far enough away that they were not touching.

 

“You’re tense,” Obi-Wan noted. He could feel it rolling off of her in waves. Loss, and fear and anger and _guilt_ in the force, all begging to be released.

 

“So are you.” Her words were terse.

 

“This isn’t a competition to see who is worse at meditating, Maris.” Obi-Wan allowed a smirk to touch his face. “Although if it was, I’d be sure to mention the time I got so distracted in a particular living force meditation that I awakened to the sound of Qui-Gon’s laughter and the feeling of _mud_ on my face, from where I’d been unknowingly communing with the ground.” 

 

At least that earned him a suppressed giggle, and then a companionable silence. He knew when she was going to speak next. The force welled up in her as she failed to release her feelings, and she let out a frustrated huff.

 

“I’m _angry_ , Knight Kenobi.” He knew that if he looked over he would see her arms crossed. Her eyes would be boring into the metal floors of the ship. “I know I should’t be, but the fact that I am anyway only makes me _more_ angry.”

 

“It’s not about should or shouldn’t, Maris. Feeling angry is perfectly understandable.”

 

“Are you angry?”

 

A beat.

 

“No.”

 

“ _Were_ you angry?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How did you make it stop? How did you _release_ it? How did you manage to stop being _furious_ at the thing that took your Master away from you?”

 

“Honestly Maris, the answer won’t help you. I just did something stupid enough that I was too confused to be angry anymore.”

 

“Maybe I should try that.”

 

“Please don’t,” Obi-Wan grimaced. 

 

“Relax, I’m joking. I’m not going to go steer us into an asteroid field,” she sighed. “Yet.”

 

“Oh for the love of everything holy, please don’t tell me to _relax_ , Maris.” There was a pause.

 

“Fine. I’m sick of people saying that to me too. Maybe we _shouldn’t_ relax. Maybe we should fly straight into Naboo and throw it off it’s axis. Burn the whole planet to the ground and pray to the Force that whatever trained that _thing_ that killed my Master burns with it.”

 

“Or we could try to release our _other_ feelings before we release anger, Maris. What is causing your anger?”

 

“I’m angry at the man who killed Master Ti.” She turned to face him, an expression on her face that told him this should have been obvious.

 

“Why are you angry that he killed Master Ti?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. Feigning ignorance. He could see more anger begin to cloud the young girl’s face.

 

“ _Why am I angry that he killed Master Ti?”_ she seethed, teeth bared. “Why?”

 

“Because you cared for her.”

 

“Of course I did, Kenobi. She was my Master.”

 

“If you hadn’t cared for her, you wouldn’t be angry. She would only be one more soul released into the Force.”

 

“But she’s _not_ just another soul!”

 

“No, and you’re not angry that she was killed, Maris. You’re sad. You’re sad that you won’t see her again. Not in the way you knew her here, in the physical world. Not until you someday join her.”

 

“But I’m _angry_ too.” She practically spat. “I should have known you wouldn’t understand.”

 

“You’re angry because you’re sad, Maris. You’re angry that your Master was killed. That you were hurt. That you have to suffer her loss. The anger is a result of your sadness, and it’s normal to mourn for loved ones.”

 

“I’m not mourning. I’m taking action.”

 

“You can do both, Maris.”

 

“I’m taking _action_.” She stood, fuming her way to the exit. “Go ahead and hide in here then. I’m going to—I’m.” She looked around desperately at her options. “I’m going to see if Anakin needs any help.” And she walked out the door, leaving Obi-Wan sitting alone once again.

 

Suddenly the privacy didn’t feel quite so nice anymore.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Maris. Feelings are tough.
> 
> You'll get there eventually.


End file.
